Deutsch, Poetry

Abrahams Schoß brennt



lustig lachen

durch die nacht

wandern mit siebenmeilenstiefeln

hinters licht

geführt vom


glänzt der mond

durch meine brille

sehe ich klar

war das ein abend




haucht er mir ein

als ich meine Augen unter die Lider zwinge

kratzt mir Angst unter die Haut

mit allerleirauhen Händen

Abrahams Schoß brennt

ich werfe ihn in die Glut und lösche

sein Augenlicht im Funkenregen

dann haue ich ihm im Herzdunkel

den Kopf


Gewinner des SCHRITTMACHER Literaturwettbewerbs 1999 für Schülerinnen und Schüler in Rheinland-Pfalz.

Ausgewählt zum Treffen Junger Autoren 1999.

Veröffentlicht in:

SchrittMacher 2000: Das Literatur-Jahrbuch von jungen Leuten für junge Leute in Rheinland-Pfalz (s. Foto)

Im Kopf da brennt es: Treffen Junger Autoren ’99. Hg. im Namen der Berliner Festspiele GmbH. Frankfurt am Main: Alibaba Verlag, 2000.

English, Poetry

Art matters

Art matters

Travelling with a famous artist
is not the glamour it’s said to be
except for the gleam of the silver bubbles
that cushion the ride on the Jubilee.

‘Guess whose print I’ll bring home tonight,’
I message my lover from Waterloo.
“I don’t know the options!” He hesitates.
“Lichtenstein? Haeckel? Kiviharju?”

Thumbs up.  ‘Original.’
“Whaaaa!” I chuckle.
He just asks, “Worth?”



A picture paints a thousand words.

As a member of, I couldn’t resist a project called “26 Prints” — setting the challenge of responding to a print in exactly 62 words (a sestude). Incredibly, we were allowed to take an original artwork home for a month — to hang it in our favourite spot and look at it every day. All leading up to a public exhibition at Eames Fine Art in London, complete with exhibition catalogue.

In late January 2017, I joined 25 other writers for the Prints Pairing Night. 26 numbered original prints were scattered around the studio, each covered with black paper. Each of us picked a number from a bowler hat with their one free hand (holding a generously sized glass of wine in the other). The range was simply incredible: amazingly beautiful prints by contemporary artists, some of whom had joined us in the room. Sophie Layton being my favourite — but I also loved Malcom Franklin‘s abstract works, Michael Barratt‘s mysterious whimsy and the incredible detail in Austin Cole‘s etching of St Paul’s and Shard.

I’ve been a Warhol fan all my life — I love the aesthetic, the philosophy and the wildness of the Studio, and I spent my teenage pocket money on obscure mis-pressings of Velvet Underground albums (Phil Collins behind a banana cover, anyone?). So I was over the moon when I randomly picked his Dollar Red.

26 Prints is on until 16 April. See it at the Eames Gallery, 58 Bermondsey Street, London, SE1 3UD.

English, Poetry

Elvis is Alive!

A little more action 

He delivers my mail
on a rainy Wednesday afternoon
he leaves notes in old-fashioned cursive

He’s touring Germany
last week he sang
for my mother’s sixtieth birthday

He looks up from across Moe’s in Ottawa
and winks at a stunned stoned face
with his right eye

Elvis is a little-known
recipe for a Peanut Butter Sandwich
with a little more bite — “Simple and Elegant”

Elvis is a 19-year-old labourer from Norwich
he impressed on television
with his androgyny thing

Elvis isn’t dead.
He just went home
to a little less conversation.


First published on 26 Lies.

Image by Natalie Bone.