the list of awkward

· we start from a pretty weird situation already
· theater, no theater, come there, meet there, go together, meet here, meet there.
· see you lying down on ground and think "ireallywannalaydownnexttoherandsayhi,butibetternot"

i usually do what i feel, and i don't know why i don't with you.––[editor's note]

· we find a bar. we can't get in.
· then we go to a nice place, but i can't even order a spoon.
· we go to the theater i get your name wrong. i start hating myself for the rest of the night or eternity, whichever ends first.
· we ride on the subway. i'm scared shitless that there'd be a control, we'd get fined and you'd associate me with getting harassed in german and minus €40.
· i'm supposed to help you with your bike and i don't.
· we get to my house. i leave you waiting outside. again.
· we ride to neukölln or to bayern, whichever came first, i want to keep chatting while riding because i think it's a usually a beautiful thing–you know, air and city landscape at speed, while you hear a familiar voice, it's like being in a movie and it would've been great to be there with you. i can't because there's traffic and this asshole honks at you and you have to tell me: i don't like riding in the middle of the street, as if i didn't know.
· we get to the bar, i get the feeling you're waiting for someone who doesn't show up. i'm afraid to ask.
· i go and get beers, but an annoying person keeps hitting on this german guy at the bar. i leave you waiting. again.
· i ask you why you keep folding the volksbühne flyer wrong because i want to know if it's what you do when you think about books you make, like new ways of binding books and origami books and whatnot. it all comes out wrong, as a reproach.
· i find €50. i assume they were yours because i only notice them when you get up from your usual crossedleggedness. when you come back i wrapped them and immediately i realize it looks like i'm giving you €50. i feel so stupid i just want to dissolve into my beer and fizz away within microseconds. i try to explain, but there's nothing to do.
· you say you're tired, i am basically mute. i realize you're saying goodbye. i start thinking about writing this.

only moment when i felt alright: sitting on that 1900's bench-couch, our legs drawing a triangle, looking at how round and curved the hall was and how sparkling were the crystals in the chandelier and in your eyes. your voice was soft and i was relaxed, smoking a cuban cigar. i we both dressed elegantly; i had a mustache and an iron car parked outside. we were high-society members, well respected among the artistic elites, conspiring against a blackshirt regime, we patronized opposition theater. but the time had come, we would've been arrested come morning. sitting on the couch, away from inquiring eyes, i asked you to elope with me to switzerland, and start a new life there. you obviously said yes.

for k-n

i just wanted to say goodbye
from far away i wave
to you
and your back
"but you've not said hi"
and i know, but i feel i don't need to

so goodbye and so long
to all the difficult things
whoever said they were exciting
it's just smoke in our eyes
and wishes of coming true

the red lantern

or so i see
from above.

the light shines warm yellow from inside.
i waited till darkness made its way
noses red, wool and quick steps
embraced with wide black arms

i waited till all around were
lists of city silences preparing for country secrets

from above the light bled through the glass windows
for everyone to see, but there was no one there
no one there except the trees
and the rooftops leaning down

and you i waited for
to come smile quiet
legs crossed on the chair, under the table

i waited till there was nothing more to wait for
and i thought that, in the end, since i didn't know what i was waiting for,
i was just waiting for you.

for k-n

fog on the river

sometimes, as the passing of days
the slow change of perspective
takes place as angles roll slowly west
you and i, a definite direction
and a recurrence of quick snaps
like ticks on windows

but as the pane thickens with water
the outside blurs, sometimes distorted
sometimes magnified
as i keep steadily on the outside
signaling on each passing season
the you from the fall
and the you from the spring

for Z.D.