Artwork : W. Jack Savage |
This is the Year of Long Nights
all afternoon
the snow has
fallen.
of Kreuzberg too, they will speak;
this isle of theirs
is also frozen.
all night they touch
themselves in Wedding
somewhere in the dark.
theirs is the silence of black lacy bras
theirs is a love
of broken seas.
the ease has gone out of love now
their cries floating
somewhere in Wrangelkiez.
First Snow
the canal froze
//over//
last night; this I saw
from the window.
the snow
//still falling outside//
collects
in the clefted nude trees.
now, now, now
the men in fluorescent orange
//arrive//
throw, crunch, trample
this pebbled gravel
melting the snow.
These feet, our tender old feet
waking this morning
are pricked to no end.
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