Steffen Popp Biography

Sap runs out of the trees, as usual
the forests stand, wooden and green
before my window, and everywhere on the earth
where there is no field, no garden
...

Movement (air), sea color (green), a hedgehog (the technique of a coyote
to flip it onto its back) — your heart, the nearby port
stretches itself on its sleep-edges. Feed in sacks, munitions boxes
the unnatural hoof of a donkey in brackish water —
...

Empty balconies glowed, islands suspended at the outskirts
the air, presumably sleeping, lazed around, a ferry

I leaned my head into her torso
...

A kind of love, between the apartment-blocks
with snow-ears: unreal, outside time
the stones lie under the ice
the frozen brake-marks, the drunkard's
...

Tired is my eye, tired tired
like Alps. An enchanted distance
of years is my face,
fields, in which I slept -
...