No revolver
For Bert
Schierbeek
It’s raining, the last of the flowers are
letting go, but people are blooming.
Hölderlin briefly reads clearly
then clouds over: curtains are shut
during the daytime. Doors close
without a keyhole. It’s raining hard.
And yet: humans believe that the world is
getting better, women draw a lipstick
and no revolver. Women bathe children,
but the sky turns their water black.
And yet: time unreels to give people
extra time and now Hölderlin will chuckle a bit
about the last pears. Although he’s mistaken:
it is his madness dancing to ashes’ tune.
It’s raining, the last flowers are
strewing children on the old earth.
And Hölderlin pores over his poem,
scratches some words, drinks and prays.
The poem is by Rogi Wieg
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