poetry
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Rubberbands
an almost empty glass of Barolo,listening to what late summer sounds likewith a sea-worn, fist-sized flint…
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Rolls
East German Rolls I use my everyday words,writingin my coral nightgown.Morning,open windows. Rain is falling.From the…
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Prora*
The nose of the red quay wall, Street III,(it has never been used)has broken off. Shards…
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Late Diagnoses of a Carpet
the cherry tree crown reached the roof—this tangible, impossible year faster and faster empty over the…
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Forest of Arden
Several visits melt into each other. One of them: he stands in front of me at…
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Lalaland
After having watched Laputa, I write to my friend: “There are things that hold us together,…
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an attempt
an attemptat silencean empty boxfills itselfwith odds and endsRibbons Spring/Summer: Volume 21, Number 1
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Curtains Are Not Necessarily More See-through In Broad Daylight
When I was a child, I used to imagine at night how the world would end.…
