Unruly

think of me as a piece of paper
that you've put thoughtlessly in your coat pocket
after you wrote something on it. I leave open 

what, although I hope: let it be one line, one
for in a verse saved for later and that stays on 
your mind, long after you put me away.

you know the line gradually by heart. It loops
in your head like a mantra. Still you never find
the right context for it: a good poem that places
the line, frames it, and above all tames it.

then after a while you take me out of your pocket,
caress me and sigh: what to do with you?

Dead end


No track runs past its terminus,
if you think that you're crazy.

And if you at the end find
nothing but a last impression,
then you didn't miss anything.

But I only saw this:
how you looked up from your empty gaze
how you looked around,
confounded about what you lost,
how your eyes looked for mine
how they after the silence
slipped into memory.

Harvesting

Time goes by faster when you move a plant now and then 
in the winter I need a motive
nothing is predestined here
but everything goes gradually

this is me in the dead of night
and I must warn you, I fall in love easily 

I recognize you before you recognize yourself
(you will match nicely with my wallpaper)
there are homes where you will thrive better

I smoke holes into the couch
but if you're still here when I turn around

you will never leave again