autumn for me was always
at home

autumn for me was always
simply spring rewound
as though the trees
were pulling back their leaves
I rarely got really
excited about it
with haemorrhoids
but now I’m learning how
to smell autumn
as I’m starting to learn my own smell
at the roadside
in the leaves
the honey agaric of memory
the tales dad tells
of plump strands of mycellium
glowing among the trees at night
Originally published in German by © Edition Thaleia, St. Ingbert 2007

 

at home
what was that again
I’m sitting in the commuter train
thinking of the agony
of fish eyes
in a tin of sprats
do you remember
the red label
kilki w tomatnom sousje
the flat tin
open wide
hard to bear
that staring
people on platforms
mühlheim       dietesheim       steinheim
mondays to fridays always the same
litany over loudspeakers
an inspector suggests that I
should get a ticket
so that we know
he says
where you’re going

Originally published in German by © Edition Thaleia, St. Ingbert 2007