everything else has too,
and so it seems that he walks on,
and that the rest also walks on.
But he only pretends to walk ;
and the way he regards the horizon at the end of the street
is also feigned ;
and the French fries which he smells somewhere while he pretends
to walk
-it might be altogether somewhere else-
he onl y notices as a last kindness towards himself:
actually he doesn't smell anything anymore ,
and the French fries are homeless remnants
from that already unimaginable time
when every object still hugged its meaning :
recollection of a picture in the church where theJust stand beneath the
Blessed Virgin 's coat .
" When I was a boy, everything was right: "
what false longing ,
for only rarely was it right when you were a child,
mostly the feeling offorever standing in a draft with
burning hangnails-
and this hangnail feeling has returned ;
so that you shouldn ' t say :
" The sense was lost ," but
" Nonsense is rediscovered ."
There was no plan ,
nor the notion of a plan ,
and the inbetween sense , the moments oflove,
of horniness , of frenzy and of ' 'righteous' , anger you now recall with
nausea.
HELP-No more bad jokes .. .
Where can you still look?
Where does the last contradiction survive?
Where is the sight to revive you?
But all questions have become rhetorical,
routine memories of real questions ,
and because the questions aren't meant seriously
the lips move theatrically along with them
