London poem

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The rain-soaked hem of a burkha...
A prophet with megaphone in the pedestrian precinct.
A market crier tries to drown him out.
In the tube a girl put's her make-up on, mirroring in the window.

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a man cried loudly on the street. what had happened to him? he sobbed like a child.

because i wanted to eat my ice-cream undisturbed by lustful glances, i went to the graveyard.

first I thought: "these sprayers really stop at nothing!" dann I recognized that this was a sprayer's grave.

next to my house I saw a girl with a funny telephone (in pink!!!)
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Sorry, dear non-German-speakers, I can't translate this...
But thanks for visiting my blog!