The day exits through dusk, the sun on hills
Angry at its going. Briar and brush,
In death, like
(after the German of Georg Trakl)
The brown village. A darkness often treads
Along the walls th
(after the German of Rainer Maria Rilke)
We have no knowledge of his ancient brow
I can recall her bent back in the garden,
staking tomato plants and raking soil;
in winter, when
Yes, pretty soon now they’ll be at your door.
They’ve orders and a warrant after all.
The father looks up to the sky or ceiling
(beyond the grey scale of the photograph)
with his son
The old Romanesque church in Petersdorf,
closed since the Germans left the neig
You hear the sound of carols from afar.
Bright bulbs and tinsel, cinnamon and cloves.
Beyond a hil
Though many years have passed, and loves, I swear
I can still smell the soaps this one would use.
Intensities of pain—
of those once persecuted
and those once executed.
The scientific gain
Here is a river with a little boat
moored beside its bank. The boat's the colour
of oranges in the
Those who have come ashore
are neither meek nor poor.
Invaders to your land,
they mock the hel
After a long night of interrogation,
followed by a thirty-minute trial,
there was no doubt about
Here where this graveyard comes to a sudden end
you lie forgotten beside a crumbling wall,
Without the moon or stars to guide his sight,
without a glint from shanties down below,
It comes to this: a greyness like no other
under clouds uncanny as the mist.
And down below, the v
A cuckservative wooed the vote of Diego,
and married a dwarf from south of Laredo.
The Koch broth
For five days the blowflies have cleansed their bones.
Now they lie waiting for the August rain,