Klunkerkranich

An unexpected voice

throws me on

a not really morning street,

spinach flavour brioche

and mini espresso in the corridor,

snowy rain

weakens the embers

while waiting for Sammy.

In a refund room,

raising smiles of memories

I hug again an unexpected friend.

My good mood sprite

blue hair tips

and the ability of building

miniature bridges

that one meter after the other

cover the world.

Starving for Egyptian chats

and for food from the past months

we mix in our mouths

hummus, words,

kebab.

On a loft

attempting to become home

a coffee and an amaretto

lead us through streets

sprinkled

of bottled up poetry,

lit up

by the wine

resting in the street lights’ globes,

surrounded

by caves

full of TV sets

bicycles

ugly t-shirts.

A sharp

sweet

childish

woody smell

of printed paper

fights its way jostling

in the nostrils of our soul.

We get lost

inside a supermarket

we get lost

in a parking lot

we find each other again

in a parking lot

at the last turn:

full of flowers!

Full of premonitions

of hidden treasures.

From the Turkish roof

we rule Berlin

we rule the world

and from a chair

too big for us

and in a place

too weird for us

letters start

raining from the ceiling

they blend into the paper birds

flying over the pub.

Wooden constructions

are occupied by the wax

-white calm

after an eruption.

In the suspended garden

a wind of freedom

a bath tub

turning into a cradle

of aquatic plants

a wooden labyrinth,

of green and smoke,

of different languages

of a poem writing friendship.

At last I feel words

invading my lungs.

 


Vera Linder

** Klunkerkranich is a bar in Berlin. Sammy and Vera reunited in Berlin in October for one night. They went to a bar with their friend Vittoria and decided to write a poem about their day, the same day, at the same time. This is Vera Linder’s poem.

Read “Klunkerkranich” in Italian.

Or read about Sammy’s day in English.