Jan Hauck (June 1,1978)

Is it a coincidence that I have a wooden shelf,
A marching band of blind bottles with brittle corks,
Containing many of my screams.

No smoky dreams will come out if I polish them,
No three wishes, just terrified eyes and mouths,
That usually break glass but not those bottles,
Missing their messages and ships.

And all day I sit at my table, carving, screaming,
I have to, I have to!
My boots in the corner like open graves.