phalanges hunt

through my abandoned body I will go
I hunt in tiny phalanges for you
I turn into darkness
painlessly

up to here the worms crowd
their dance in the memory
loneliness walks through my angel
no answer

the mountain comes down through my veins
in a fake udder consciousness
breaks the bread over the cardboard

there is war everywhere the churchbells
ring in the void
in the sleep like a sinister head
with millions of eyelids

I refuse serenity one more year
with my forefinger in a resignation cry
the wall is an excuse for the righteous
peace belongs to those who forgive

I must be the first to arrive there
in the tongue’s split the night seethes
the apple of the eye

the sorrow of knowinng you are happy is enough for me

in the narrow smell of silence
I will feed the birds with a lunatic’s fate

up to here
up to here the temples crumble
out of to much love
in the abandoned body there is room enough for everyone.