The Mosquito

Maybe it is excessive to memorialize the mosquito. But even the mosquito holds, by the sip of my blood, a stake in the history of anxiety. Translated from the German by Monika Zobel

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My Muse

(Translated by William Pitt Root and Hannelore Quander-Rattee) My muse stands on the corner what I don’t want she gives cheap to everyone when she’s happy she makes a gift of what I want Seldom have I seen her happy. My muse is a nun in the darkened house behind double grates she puts in

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