Das Fleisch verfliesst. Wo sass deine Kotfistel, fragt man sich? Vereinfachter Mechanismus. Ich bin aufgestiegen wie ein junger Adler.
So stand ich: nackt, vom kalten Sternenlicht Umbrandet Stirn und Blut. They are treating us like rubbish.
Translated Martin Travers
Who, for example, has thrown my brain into my breast cavity? Am I supposed to breath through this? Is my faint blood circulation supposed to flow through it? By all that is right and fair! This is going too far!
L. W. Currey, Inc.
How did I get here? As if peeled from an egg!! And now?? And my heart valve on the right side does not need to be poking out of my arse! That looks like I have got hemeroids. The lips of the land gnaw: the wind roars in. Flesh dissolves. And in the dark towers of the limbs Eternal earth cries out with joy. Freed from my tear-drenched Cage. Freed from hunger and the sword. And as the seagulls flee in winter Over the sweet water: therefore: returned home. Where does my stomach start?
Where can we find your excrement fistula, someone asks? A completely different constitution. The navel has been thrown overboard. A simplified mechanism. Back to nature seems the best way to go. Men, hairy and randy. Women, cowardly and deceitful, Driven out of your shit-lives, Whined around by human beasts. I have ascended like a youg eagle. And stand there: naked, brow and blood Lit around by cold star light.
Ich will ein ausgeschlenkertes Meer sein, du Affe! I want to push you in your shoulders.
Things Fall Apart
I want to spead myself over you. I want to be a sea at high tide, you idiot! Komm man mit.
They are soft, white, large, As if from the flesh of the womb. But you are wearing a good English suit. You can come with me. But, of course, bring a solid gold coin. Europe, this piece of snot Europe, this piece of snot Out of the nose of a confirmation pupil.
- The Wisdom of Folktales: Lessons on How to Live Happily Ever After.
- Amar y otros verbos (Punto de encuentro) (Spanish Edition).
- Further inclusive events of the activeCARD.
Wir gerieten in ein Mohnfeld Wir gerieten in ein Mohnfeld. Everywhere bricks screamed around. Encase us in the tower of flames With everything that kneels before the gods. Ten naked redskin heathens danced around the edifice and bleated An ape-song to death: You are simply spraying around the dirt from a puddle And are squashing underfoot a mound of worms when You crush us, We are and do not want to be anything more than filth. They have lied to us and deceived us With talk of God, purpose and meaning And gave you as a payment our sins. For us you are the enticing rainbow Stretched over the peaks of joy.
Einer sang: … Einer sang: Ich liebe eine Hure, sie heisst To. Ihr Gang sticht durch mein Blut. Sie ist ein Abgrund wilder, dunkler Blumen. Kein Engel ist so rein. Mit Mutteraugen. Ich liebe eine Hure. Sie heisst To. Yes, as if made from a vessel All through summer. Her step cuts through my blood. She is an abyss of wild, dark flowers.
No angel is so pure. With mothering eyes. I love a whore. Feuchtigkeiten ein lauter Rausch.
Ein Kind! O ja, ein Kind! Moistness, a pure intoxication. A child! Oh yes, a child! But how to get one and not — feel ashamed.
Things Fall Apart – Wikipedia
I dreamt once that a young birch-tree Had given me a son. A violet song from the heavens Sung to the buds of young roses. Oh, through the nights there sobs unto the stars My male blood. Da lobe ich mir den tiefen Alt des Mohns. Da denkt man an Blutfaden und Menstruation. I prefer the deep alto of the poppy.
It reminds me of patches of blood and menstruation. Die weiche Bucht. Alles ist Ufer.