Atomic tangerine Poem by Sabine Scho

a door, what a custom
a lock, hinge, collar stiffeners, that's
what's used to measure up steel
doorframes, concrete, files
and, yes, files. "that's how we
turn off the light", on piles of
paper, but the horror of grey is a
colour too after all, deliberately
careful with the broom, almost like at
home, but a bit higher, the third part
of the karma game was cancelled, no
alarms and no surprises, a corridor,
what a tube, pizza from the biscuit
tin, and out there it's getting whiter
all the time, at christmas, they
say, that's sort of the custom
glitter fences, one last beer to reconnect
but, please. couldn't you let me out of
here

Translated by Catherine Hales