Hans Thill Poems

He walked now jingling as if on
cups dressed gaily after the fashion
of the steppe animals which cut loose
from in his insides
...

in the knee-high grasses we grew quickly
into pines which stood by each other
sharp houses at your back the mountain a
familiar old slope
...

I (Town)

Chequered wood thinly inscribed easily broken
glass. Alarm. The walls once book clad. One stands
before this fine orderly dust. Another
...

IN HASTE the inside returned to the
outside: In her money-bag mother with her
folding umbrella father whose starter
failed
...