Marcel Beyer

Marcel Beyer Poems

We are powdered characters
on easy chairs in the corner seating unit,
dimly lit, black velveteen.
...

Frog grease, in an exhausted state, scraped
out but for the edges and
brittle, still black, but only moderately so,
...

At certain hours my eyes grow
dark, then I race back into my
darkness before the first words
...

You sit and look around: secrets. The
objects, unspoken, for some years now
they haven't even turned towards the
...

5.

Sedge stands over the land, stands
suspended, quite still. Sedge stands,
I hear nothing, in the light, you still
...

Sleep where I didn't sleep. So many hands on the
handle, at the basin and what was beneath it. Soon such weak
breathing, no sleep. What could have been, should
...

7.

Now which do you mean, the seagulls, the boots
on the dock at night, the snow at night? Trieste
or Turku, Turku, Trieste - where are the flakes,
...

8.

And what is dust, I sometimes want to ask you
when of an evening someone steps momentarily
onto the patio, beats the doormat
...

I see you draw soot, water, pores in the
plastic curtain, daylight, it smells of
quilt, of ancient green checks. I'm hanging
...

Fenland, evidence, descent and breakage.
Deeper incisions, but we talk, among
nests, over the veins, the leechings, the polish.
...

The languages are strange to me, I'm like someone
wearing carpet-slippers: but there
...

Too late, too late, on the walls, on my own,
the neon sign, the late film, the folding
seat, too late. You talk in your sleep,
...

It's noon, you're sitting behind the wheel
in an empty country road, a couple of Polish stations
are cutting in and out, nothing speaks in you, you're on the point
of thinking you grew up mute, and then this: rape,
...

First it's the goodbyes, the excursion, the label.
First it's the morning, the squeeze of mustard
and your profile. The crackle
...

Marcel Beyer Biography

Marcel Beyer (born 23 November 1965) is a German writer. Marcel Beyer was born in Tailfingen, Württemberg, and grew up in Kiel and Neuss. From 1987 to 1991 he studied German language and literature, English studies and literary studies at the University of Siegen; in 1992 he obtained a Magister degree with a work on Friederike Mayröcker. Since 1987, he has developed performance art. From 1989 he published, with Karl Riha, the series Vergessene Autoren der Moderne (Forgotten Modernist Authors) at the University of Siegen. From 1990 to 1993, he worked as editor on the literary magazine Konzepte; from 1992 to 1998, he was a contributor to the music magazine Spex. In 1996 and 1998, he was writer in residence at University College London and the University of Warwick in Coventry. Beyer lived until 1996 in Cologne, and since then in Dresden. He is a visiting professor at the European Graduate School in Saas-Fee. From early on Beyer, strongly influenced by Friederike Mayröcker and the authors of the French nouveau roman, was a writer of lyric poetry and novels, always taking an idiosyncratic view of German history, in particular the Third Reich era.)

The Best Poem Of Marcel Beyer

At the Hotel Orient

We are powdered characters
on easy chairs in the corner seating unit,
dimly lit, black velveteen.
These are the real establishments,
men in vests open the door.
But I am only eyes and ears:
Do people still clear their throats? Snort?
Mishear? "They were famished", at night,
in the room next door, late until three.
And we are sad characters
at the varnished table, night talk.
Eyes half open. Freshly shaved temples:
Do people still speak easy? Smoke?
Act the coke demon. The bag of sugar
that walked off with me, SANTORA, inhaled
in front of the rust-flecked mirror.
MAXIM FUTUR reflection: Do people
still drop? And I stand there
as if flavoured: hot, elder-ly
and weak.

Translated by Hans-Christian Oeser and Gabriel Rosenstock

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