It came to me
from
the silent shadows,
this word
...
In her winter of discontent
she could sense where her destiny went.
She tatooed on her skin
a mad Kraut with a grin
...
Eine blaue Blume sass
frueh am Morgen, dort, im Gras.
Lieblich war sie anzuseh'n
laechelnd bis dreiviertel zehn.
...
Pickled pig's feet in the morning
Fire mustard makes it nice
yet for those who had no warning
feel they've eaten coral lice
...
Advent, Advent, es brennt ein Licht
im Bettchen schlaeft der kleine Wicht.
Der Weihnachtsmann kommt kurz vorbei
nach Mitternacht, so gegen zwei.
...
To the children, I note, with alarm
that this year we will miss all his charm.
Seems that Santa is ill
and this Christmas he will
...
As if a man of mettle
had kissed the Mother Earth
and that each velvet petal
remembered still its birth.
...
So is it honour?
An echo coming back now,
for me to answer.
...
An earwig who had found his way
into an ear, was there to stay.
He ate the hair and all the wax
then settled back, just to relax.
...
She said to meet at noon,
under the shade of Moulin Rouge,
where he, the master had once stood,
though swaying, full of straight Pernod,
...