Lagerfeld Poem by Volker Braun

Rome: an open city A lager
Down the catwalk troop the fashions
Of the millennium, bulletproof vests
For copulation Two gladiators
Are fighting for the job, long practised
In the tricks of throttling, they win applause
That´s what they went to school for HIM OR ME
The stink of fear In his empire
Lagerfeld is making a dream come true A PACK
OF WOMEN THE PICK OF BEAUTY
The winter collection for the wars in Dacia
Has made him rich IT IS ENOUGH TO TURN YOUR STOMACH
They are bearing my ideas, these are summer clothes
To the spoilt world A festival of beauty
Helena Christensen in evening wear Meanwhile
The two craftsmen have not let go
One is Commodus, the wild son
Of a cool father, the mother´s indiscretion
When he croaks the throne stands empty
And Septimius Severus the African
Will march with the XIVth from the wilderness of Vienna
Against the capital POOR ROME A barbarian
Emperor On his heels the rest of the world
Lgerfeld doesn´t watch He has a problem
He can make them more beautiful but not better
More and more beautiful Outfit of the brute beasts
RICH AND POOR A divided clientele
ATROCIOUS Paying and thieving
I enjoy undivided attention But
He knows what´s going on, he isn´t blind
The fifteen-year-old killer from Springfield
A MOUNTAIN OF CORPSES IN THE HIGHSCHOOL CAFETERIA
He has learned to lend a hand
he is in custody now in paper clothes
Another fashion From America Gangs of children
Are combing North Rhine-Westphalia trainees
Looking for food at Hertie´s and Woolworth´s
A light-fingered tribe from the future
In the employment exchanges carrion
Is waiting to be recycled It will wait a long time
Those in work are waiting on machines
The others are waiting to be allowed to wait on something
Legions While the world turns black
As Africa VIOLENCE MUST NOT ONLY BE THREATENED
IT MUST ALSO BE USED The Foreign Office
Inwardlygrinning states its position
On Bosnia We´ll show you what work is
A machine with limps sexually neutral
The mannequin for tomorrow´s work
AT THE END OF THE DAY YOU ARE A JUST ANOTHER
PRODUCT
Thinking is, precisely, what I try to avoid
Day after day the covering of paper with print
Custody, to prevent the suicide of the species
I don´t read it, I don´t watch
A theatre full of equanimity
THE ONLY PLACE I FEEL AT EASE
DESPAIR Kleist on the edge
At Stimming´s Inn MY ONE TRIUMPHANT CONCERN
TO FIND A DEEP ENOUGH ABYSS he lends a hand
Two dots near Potsdam Waiting for nothing
That´s the drama: there is no action
We know otherwise and refrain from action No
We can do no other The dress
Fits like a second skin NOWADAYS THEY DO EVERYTHING
IN HUMAN FLESH Goes on and on
Look at Commodus, a death of the peg /
Lagerfeld or Serenity He
Doesn´t love the beauties he can have His heart
Seeks beauty everywhere Beauty
Is a son of the gutter, has previous convictions
See here, his description, black skin
I enjoy the luxury of having been expelled
An idiot in the third millennium A citizen of the world
Helena Christensen leaves the catwalk
Why should I become fashionable
In the throwaway society
The arena full of the last screams Ideas
Rome´s last era, unseriousness
Now watch the finale ME OR ME
Greetings, barbarians

translated by David Constanine