TRINKERFILME IN BILDERN (TEIL 1): BARFLY, SZENEN EINES WÜSTEN LEBENS [BARFLY, 1987]

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TRINKERFILME

IN BILDERN

(TEIL 1)

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BARFLY,

SZENEN EINES WÜSTEN LEBENS

[BARFLY, 1987]

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Dieses Ding über mir,

 

wie eine Blume und ein Fest,

 

dieses Ding über mir,

 

das kriecht wie eine Schlange;

 

es ist nicht der Tod,

 

aber sterben bricht seine Macht,

 

und wenn meine Hand

 

zum letzten Mal den Stift fallen läßt

 

in irgendeinem billigen Zimmer,

 

werden sie mich da finden

 

– nie kenn‘ ich

 

meinen Namen,

 

meinen Sinn,

 

noch den Wert

 

meiner Flucht.

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OLD MAN, DEAD IN A ROOM

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This thing upon me is not death

 

but it’s as real

 

and as landlords full of maggots

 

pound for rent

 

I eat walnuts in the sheath

 

of my privacy

 

and listen for more important

 

drummers;

 

it’s as real, it’s as real

 

as the broken-boned sparrow

 

cat-mouthed, uttering

 

more than mere

 

miserable argument;

 

between my toes I stare

 

at clouds, at seas of gaunt

 

sepulcher…

 

and scratch my back

 

and form a vowel

 

as all my lovely women

 

(wives and lovers)

 

break into engines

 

into steam of sorrow

 

to be blown into eclipse;

 

bone is bone

 

but this thing upon me

 

as I tear the window shades

 

and walk caged rugs,

 

this thing upon me

 

like a flower and a feast,

 

believe me

 

is not death and is not

 

glory

 

and like Quixote’s windmills

 

makes a foe

 

turned by the heavens

 

against one man;

 

this thing upon me,

 

great god,

 

this thing upon me

 

crawling like a snake,

 

terrifying my love of commonness,

 

some call Art

 

some call Poetry;

 

it’s not death

 

but dying will solve its power

 

and as my grey hands

 

drop a last desperate pen

 

in some cheap room

 

they will find me there

 

and never know

 

my name

 

my meaning

 

nor the treasure

 

of my escape.

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