My hand held the railing I fingered the film. I paused by the blue flowers In the icy vestibule. I attended the scent of the sewer Snow fell in the streetlight A goshawk looked me straight in the eye Then flew over the Spree * * * I knelt by the Embassy fence He seemed asleep on the sidewalk But ice formed on his moustache And his eyes remained open I lifted the flask from his fingers I finished it for him A streetcar’s sound crept closer And I darted away * * * I slip on the steps To the S-Bahn descending at Friedrich Street I keep with the crowd While I’m wiping away the bleeding I give you the film Our handshake enveloping secretly Before you can leave I attempt to speak discreetly “If it's true that they're keeping me Another year behind the Wall I'm going to need that pistol you promised So give it to me. Give it to me. Give it to me. Give it to me.”
I drop my machete I kneel in the mud I listen to the wind Shake the cane and move on I tongue my broken tooth I rub my malformed hand A swift sails from the mountain Toward the docks and across the bay It flees these Antilles Across the water to Venezuela Along the coastline to Bahia Across the water to the Cape Verdes Up the river along the Casamance * * * The dim of the new moon The scent of the whale oil The pair of lanterns in my good hand The shattering glass The smoke in the rollers The flying flames on the sails A spotted piglet behind me The burning curing house The falling walls of the distillery Our fleet footsteps The crying livestock The fading field in the distance * * * I set the snare I lay down the manioc A squeal in the shade of the kapoks Black spots on the hog I stroke my white beard I’ll sleep hungry tonight