a terminus spews travelers out into

the city’s streets

i jump a line and fly the five to where

le nuit debout resides, encircled by black uzis

from my camp four stories high i count

the stairs and steps

to anselm kiefer’s looming lines that suck me in and spin my brain through barren scenes

of leaden books, burned and black, that dot a paint-encrusted field of snow

paul celan recites his strophes

the muse climbs up me


i am alone and wonder if my words

shall survive

the summer

Für Paul Celan.jpg

Für Paul Celan: Aschenblume, Anselm Kiefer, 2006