For half an hour already
Mimi is purring in my lap

on the toilet
where I am stroking her
because of the lightning

No fear for her
I am a good person
I know that myself

my side is the right side
of the line under the door
the blue light

of the bolts
and the rumbling thunder
the sword of Michael

that separates evil
from good in a time
we all know

as our own time

Then I will
no longer gasp for breath
risk to open the window
and cry out

yes then I will
take off my clothes
every night without worries
and sleep relaxed

then I will
no longer see fire-barrels
and banners in the museums
only kill switches and red buttons

then I will
receive uninvited guests
and everything I wish for
because long ago

now
I have made a start
not to listen anymore
to harsh words

now
I carefully absorb the exudate
wash the blood-stained cloths
and convert my lookout posts

now
I pick up the broken eggs
clean up free of charge
now I have made a start

I am a giant, with
superior looks, walking
on high, numb legs

I will not bend my stilts
to reality, I prefer
to let my eyes wander

over digital platforms
rather than barefoot
through reality

There I am safe
floating visibly hidden
above reality

There I am at home
I know the beaten tracks
to my favourite places

I would not want to be small
without overview, getting lost
in reality

With the past, I have nothing
to do, those times were
different and they are over

Wash tub, bleachfield and garden-toilet
in sepia with a jagged edge
behind modern colour photos

of my own life in the progress
of the nations to the romanticism
of amusement parks to participate

in Romans or Indians
farmers and old crafts
from the Middle Ages

my own life
as a real explorer
who explores the Celts

and the Batavi, smelling
their life, the pine needles
swampy grass, smoking fire

charred food, wet clothes
and the self-dug poo pit
that I already knew from the photo

Life is good
in Brussels and Amsterdam
People do their work

without headlines and footnotes
without indolence and excuses
in advance

Work and rules change
but everyone knows for themselves
what it takes, being of service

and satisfied, every time
the customers are kings for a while
and both are human with each other

The smiley faces on my screen
are always the same, without wrinkles
The eyes never wink

I am often here, alone
though inseparably
we have become distant friends

So I like to smile a Good Day
at strangers in the street
I'm a good neighbour

and I think about it
that I am so selective
protecting my noble heart

with sensitive antennae
for who oh who
likes to make time for me

The pale one is watching me
with her big sad eyes
Ashamed I look at the manure
in which I live with Nena

Never should she, like me
be orphaned, daddy why
did you co-operate, why
didn't withdraw me from that honour

to make money in the temple
of the mother of us all
where men come
and pay for the fertility

of their cattle, oh heifer
I don't want anymore, but you
must be on heat again

otherwise you are more useless
than I, cast, thanks
for services rendered

I jump among the serious people
in front of the church, the café still closed
and I think even further back in time

In a late spring there was a ditch side here
yonder a mill, the ramparts and the crown
of the old Western

As if it were a thickly painted canvas
I wipe off layers of history
I expose peat diggers, see the wind

in the flowering swamp
over many seasons, everything flies
back into existence

Long hair of the mammoths
from the west, up to the ridge
on which human species tramp

It can be seen with a distant look
in the middle of the city
here where I stand

Tonight we're smart and skip
hop, an hour, oops!
We don't live

for an hour now, the night hour
of half a year ago

Then, we lived twice
we could redo our actions
but now the party is over quickly

We must, adjust
the old clock forward, move on

with the day, good morning
starlight, the earth says hello
We twinkle here too

With arms and legs we jump
over time into spring

Once the earth was flat
under celestial spheres
then it became a globe
in the void

with countries proud
to be big bigger biggest
fighting together, up
to the planets

Some say turn turn turn
the world upside down
the Land of Fire on top
Thule at the bottom

but Bucky knew better:
with twenty triangles
he made a new model --
the flat globe

and it may be the future
he shows, with America
opposed to the rest
of the world

Pull out the first, the second
and a few more
each day

Maybe you think
it's better to dye
and you try

some fancy colours and
you often look in the mirror
That's it

Until you get patches of emptiness
where a grey hair does not stand out
In the end you pull out the last one

What does it matter
how old I am, whether I have sisters
and children, where and with whom?

These are not worth knowing
In any kind of clothes, I am
with legs, torso and a face

my heart, desired or not
I want your imagination
to make appear the world

in which we can live
be freely safe and
kneel without finery

for the others, dear heart
together we can undertake
everything we wish

I stuff my ears
with selected sounds
I fill my eyes
with statuses and trivia
and sometimes I see the light
of today far away
in a picture

I ignore the people
around me, that's how
personal my life is
completely custom-made
inside my head

and confirmed
by my friends
who touch me and are
touched exclusively
on the friendship spot
where our two worlds kiss
each other autonomously

If you are a bad child
in the eyes of your parents
they sigh
oh, what shall

become of you?
Others are harder, they scold
you and demand respect
for the authority

of faith and customs
They think you are a nihilist
because they don't understand you
and because you do understand

you cannot argue with them
But you try
to explain -- no matter how nil
the rules are, there is one anyway:

do the others justice

The defects themselves are not as bad
as the memories of the time
I didn't have them, but

well, if that is all
what it is not, time after time
and yet I keep thinking it

sometimes wondering if
and where there is a limit
to rather give up

there's still só much I want
see flowers and release balloons
around the world to touch

people with a caress
of soft thoughts and
moments of peace

Beyond the Gateless Gate
I gave my stuff away --
homeless I roamed under Pisces
in the sky, their time is a long
time on the clock of the earth

The cities were founded quickly
in Aries' short hour --
but Aquarius, your centuries
are still far in the future
after the strong men

You and I don't wait anymore
we gain, in our meantime --
it is no different, changes
happen gradually, even
what dominates is only partially there

Now we have some stuff again
and we no longer roam, we are --
stronger than the strong men
water carriers for each other, at home
beyond the Gateless Gate

Bridges are no riches
anymore, they don't offer space
but rush

over my head, they separate
people and confine them
to an island without energy

a void that exhausts me
and that I cannot fill
with the contacts I make

over all the bridges
with which I make shift
for lack of time

to go out the door
and explore my island
a while without agenda

having casual conversations
and meet neighbours
who I can touch

In the evening we dance
free expression, I am
free and safe in the camp

There is only one lock, one man
who has the key, because
who would want to leave?

Come and take a look
through the fence wires
we don't hide anything

Shirking, sneaky
stuf, a rape, everything
is seen and then

the police quickly take you
to the decision square
that has no facades

There are always people passing
by the houses without outside
walls and without back rooms

seeing if you are doing your best
keep on working and are proper
in the picture and in the toilet

The world reflects everything
from everyone, but luckily
we see very little of it

Except, unfortunately, the queen
who gains in beauty every day
But young men don't see it

They shout: the princess
is more beautiful - their fantasy
of daily pleasure, a dream

of effortlessly becoming king
So Helen does not trust herself
She looks in the mirror

that lies a false truth
she walks to the lake
(guards follow her remotely)

Her eyes search the water
her lips talk to the wash of the waves
her hands reach for a golden fish

Not unmoved, sitting still
standing still, I can do it
though not that long

in the same position, but I do it
finally, without interference
everything is going on beyond me

the light, the clouds
smells, plants, and animals
I know roughly what will



Wait and see is enough, wait
for what comes back, like memories
that repeat themselves, the sounds

every day again, at home
in my mind knowing
what we are all missing

the feeling of being missed
when spring comes, summer comes
everywhere we can't be

Hey, there you are again
What a coincidence. I am here again
Well, we both are, like yesterday
Are those rocker sole shoes?

Oh, that's a birthmark
Here, you mean, you point
right here? No
don't come any closer!

     You're already scorching me!
     you ignite my imagination
     it starts to burn
     the smoke clouds me

     and I like to blaze splendidly
     until nothing is left of me
     and then arise again, jump
     again, into the fire

     of desire
     dance in the flames
     glow together forever
     Where shall we meet?

     I'd like to get to know you
     although I wonder:
     does fire know the bodies
     to which it jumps?

We are close together
without touching each other
we do that underground

in the airy worm bed
far from the chattering magpies
on our arms, the arrows

of the squeaky parakeets
with the news of the day
and the screaming gulls

We do it in the dark
licking each other's juices
and we intertwine

Ants, we don't tolerate
nowhere on our skin
they have to go elsewhere

where the parties are
fungi and lice galore
not here

We swarm across the border
where the threshold was a wall
the guards are large-sighted
the farmers plow on

We push our way out of the cold
through the roses on the right, the lilies on the left
red and white the leaves
swirling behind us

We are many
more tomorrow
thunder rolls through the clouds
the children become restless

the parents get them home
on the way, they still glow
with freedom, at home
they close the doors

with infected hands
there is not enough soap
and not enough stock
to keep us at bay

We escape time and time again
nail open new houses
dive inside
and unleash a flood

Sometimes you look up, listening
whether there is anyone, then I don't fall
into your arms, we are not so
intimate with each other
regardless how much I love you

I get as close as possible
I whiten my shadows, bath me
in the scents of your home
and sneak around like a ghost
without a sheet

Sometimes something creaks
then you look up for a moment
without seeing where I am
and I answer your thoughts
with Chance

and the feeling of being alone
peacefully alone at home
there is no kissing
no sleeping together
and no one is missed

It's over, foreign interests
rearrange everyday life
and clear old wisdom

The children adapt
They don't lift a finger
at the dust and the leaks

They shrug their shoulders
about the salty sea breeze
and don't see the bugs

They are amazed
when the door is open
and the aisles are full

of trampled papers
as fuel for a bonfire
at the Sun Gate

They have not the faintest idea
what was of value
to the thieves

The robots are served
by me, I have no choice
They squeak horribly
when I don't do it well

Then I hear the people
who don't get enough
They are entitled to their dose
of electronic alcohol

and to a nice development
of their plants, growth and
flowering with artful scents
controlled in the room next-door

After the beverage sensation, there is a choice
between avatars and dreams
with or without sex --
everything Bien de Luxe

After work done, it is sweet
to rest for those who are in the pass
of electronic life
that knows what is good for us

Groups of people attract leaders
give them power, and that power
attracts people

In new times, power melts
Supporters drop out, so
the level drops again

Thus the masses push and thrust
the waters of prosperity up and down
as if it were happening to them

Far away the sea moves with it
bringing drought or flood
and tormenting people until they unite

in a countervailing power, bringing their
well-being and downfall upon themselves
with all its consequences

Why are there people dreaming
of hell, a formless world
with leafless trees, beastly

people, thirsty victims
theatres where the murders are real
and of slogans written in blood?

Why do they fantasise like this
about a better life
about a new beginning?

Why are there people dreaming
of freedom, equality, fraternity
without prelates and politicians?

Why don't they sing
the song of humanity
Why

do they numb themselves
to explode
their pettiness?

Live! Not dying
like all the sad-eyed people
but like the dog
that dances in the window

Wake up and look
There's sun, there's stars
there's daisies
and it swirls
in your sex

Wake up to a poem
Your blood flows
Spring comes and
there's bread in the oven

I'm not saying anything new
My words are clear
as water, as your soul
The sea falls and rises
but man is cruel

Insatiable angels float
through the park, wearing wings
of fear and a crown that hurts
Their heart is wounded, lonely
and it no longer knows who it dwells in

The trees cannot help them
Pickpockets lurk in the bushes
of hidden love
The alderman sends police
into the night with handcuffs

People are closing up their homes
They hear, see, and speak no evil
An owl in the hollow of a tree
calls the hour of truth
and my eyes start to water

My ear is colour positive
the red rim boils
from your words, a bright
light bursts from the auricle
and hangs in front of my mouth

in front of my held breath
my lips not quite open
my thoughts unspoken

my look colour negative
with well blooded brains
crossed arms, glowing
with suspicion and defiance
with the desire to attack

You won't get away with it
you won't get away with it
you won't get away with it

If possible, I would close my eyes
be taken by the hand
by my dreams, follow them
into a new heaven
where I forget my sorrows

If possible, I would travel
in my imagination
build palaces, grow
love and hope overnight
and erase the pain

In the world, oppression
misery and suffering
cloud the faces
What people build
is destroyed

In the world, autocrats
are building ever higher walls
They crush dream after dream
put darkness and greed
in our hearts

Only with a stranger
the man I cared for
and with whom I spoke
as if it were him

after all those years
of waiting in vain
back in the city
of my dreams

where young people grow
old from their fate and
swallow their anger
hoping

for redemption, only there
with that man could I
say goodbye
to the waiting

On the mutilated side
branch I don't have to be
intoxicated by the resin

to see the twilight
of people everywhere
in the tree, their cables

chopped through the roots
their plastics sown
in the earth and the sea

and to hear the cries
that stick in my breath
the sadness of ignoring

the consequences of what we think
we need, oh, how soberly can I live
so as not to be complicit?

Don't walk there
says uncle, you know it
says father, you don't want
to sink into the shit

We dare to go right up to
the edge of the pit and shift
our weight to feel
the ground move

The privy is at the back, against the house:
a cubicle with a round peephole
in the door, on a sump
that Uncle Joe comes to empty

Together with the dipper
he does the pit, pails
through the kitchen and hallway
to the cart with the shit barrel

And then we mop
The building is too old
to be connected
to the sewer system

and will be demolished
but there is no other home
for us yet, and until then
it is just our home

There's a power cut
For now
And even more

hangs over us
Says the pessimist
Says the realist:

We'll see. Sabotage
a computer hack, war with
or without thunder and lightning

Set to work, repair
and hold out
against the usurper

who shortsightedly
pushes the verges
and the edges of impunity

For us, it's all
Freedom. Or nothing
Death and oblivion

Killing him, calling him names
or telling the truth flat out
would only make matters worse

and I myself would be
hunted down, my body
destroyed and poisoned

So I give in, temporarily
With our heads held high
you and I think far enough

into the future
to persevere
our silent resistance

and step by step
in a parallel reality
reclaim our freedom

from the noisy brat
who prideful boasts
of his short straws

and preserve it
from the big boys
who are out for the booty

How small am I willing
to live, in a small circle
with small wishes

in small style, with
a small mouth and
a small stomach?

Not wanting to experience
everything, not wanting to know
everything, just quickly, without

interest or return
without regard
for my environment?

Are these sacrifices
to live this way, or
are they simply steps

toward contentment
well-being, equality
and brotherhood?

I hear someone cry
but it is me
which doesn't correspond

to the life I have
the good life
so many dream of

In the mirror, I see their faces
in my worries and teary eyes
They're not threatening me

with terrifying snakes
I don't turn to stone
neither from hunger

nor from clotted blood
I can share
more

and by being sober
make it possible for them
to live a humane life too

Culture is being flattened
People tolerate this powerlessly
and sometimes even applaud it

With common sense and education
they only half-understand the science
that suits their own agenda

Representatives trump each
other and make no decisions
outside their own fairytale world

where they can go anywhere
without moving a step, they pull
something out of the machine

and wish for the good old days
to play in - a false game
because it knows no end

The world has become too big
Only on the small scale could I
change things, otherwise, I am
passive and can be entertained

by reproductions
that don't require concentration:
talking voices
without faces and body language

exciting stories
on flat screens
and advertisements
for quick satisfaction

both commercial and political
in the game of elections, that drowns
out parliamentary and government
work and turns it into a play

In 1935, the future was flat
Order was on the verge of collapse
in families, shops, and factories

In parliaments and cafés
there was a lot of heated talking
at first with everyone, soon
only with like-minded people

Illusions and misconceptions
abounded, citizens grouped
against each other, clashed

Orators sought conflicts and wrong
national borders, made themselves bigger
at the expense of perceived enemies
were on their way to glory and power

States were not to be trusted
There was a need to arm
a need to fight

But war cannot bring peace
only destruction
and sorrow, many long years
until the country is exhausted

What shall I do?
For now, nothing
I decide
to postpone my decision

I know the pros and cons
but I do not yet have the courage
to take leave
from what I am not going to do

My thoughts about how it might
turn out are a problem
How can I trust

that it will go well
that I will be fine
if it goes differently

than expected and it depends
on how I view it at the time
whether I will be open to it?

The poet dreams romantic
of unearthly beautiful women
and he mocks the ordinary people

He's bluffing he will reveal
the women's secret
their fondest heart's desire

In the end he promises
loyalty to an old woman
whose words laugh at him

Women want to be the boss
of their husband and their lover
not allow them a life of their own

like in the land of Meagrebeast
where this truth is lied
by women who are jealous

and who defend their husbands
so they don't have to go to bed
with their wrong

I am as I used to be
cheerfully my mind flies
in front of the group, to the sun:
I receive a laughing hat

Goodness, what big eyes you have!
To look all day
and make me think

about my familiar self
full of action and attention
full of inexhaustible energy
until the reaction comes

to all those wonderful particles
in my blood and my body
runs off track: should I

smile and prefer to keep
the mean tediously, heading
to a smaller, inner happiness
I do know it all

so well, but it is a fight
for who I am, oh doom, oh wisdom
of my mind