dialogue with a woman seated on a couch May 18

and, what hasn’t happened?
look – everyting is done.

you wanted to dance, you have these broken
aquaintances to laugh about.
you wanted to look into the distance
and discover meaning
in perspective,
look – your squinting is only blinding you out.

soft, acidic water is falling
drop by drop
drop by drop
on the echo that my garden is.
echo of my optimism,
of my wish, my wanting to jump, jump, jump
and blow cold steam out of my breath.

let’s say – I do not understand.
I do not understand what united nations
has to do with the openness of your smile.
your touch.
but, will you explain?

you seem to be convinced,
that our love is linked
to cosmic blunders.

I have looked up dictionaries and have agreed
that everything – all the sign-boards,
all the hoardings, all the placards
have been strung together by foreigners.

they do not have anything to do with me.