Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Monika Rinck

disembodiment

tapirs are complex minions of diligence.
the way they go about on low-down legs
with their much too dainty hooves –
parading penumbral beasts, that send
gravity into a measured sway.
their tracks are surely indiscreet patterns
where those in the know
can decipher their only joy –
proceeding to mate with the utmost politeness.
but their voice, we are told, is a feeble zizuzizu
not unlike the squeaking of suspension coils.
sunday, get out of bed and off to the museum
where behind glass their wired skeletons
wait for the second lesson:
today the animals will learn from me
what it means to be anguished
but agile nonetheless.

disembodiment

disembodiment

tapire sind komplexe gesellen der sorgfalt.
wie sie so einhergehen auf niedrigen beinen
mit ihren viel zu zierlichen hufen –
defilierende dämmerungstiere, über denen
die schwere bedächtig ins wogen gerät.
ihre spuren müssen indiskrete muster sein
in denen, wer sich drauf verstünde
ihre einzige freude liest –
höflichst zur paarung zu schreiten.
ihre stimme hingegen sei ein dürftiges siesusiesu
dem quietschen der radaufhängung nicht unähnlich
sonntags, heraus aus dem bett, ins museum hinein
wo ihr verdrahtetes skelett hinter der scheibe
auf die zweite lektion wartet:
heute erfahren die tiere von mir
was es heißt betreten
und dennoch biegsam zu sein.
Close

disembodiment

tapirs are complex minions of diligence.
the way they go about on low-down legs
with their much too dainty hooves –
parading penumbral beasts, that send
gravity into a measured sway.
their tracks are surely indiscreet patterns
where those in the know
can decipher their only joy –
proceeding to mate with the utmost politeness.
but their voice, we are told, is a feeble zizuzizu
not unlike the squeaking of suspension coils.
sunday, get out of bed and off to the museum
where behind glass their wired skeletons
wait for the second lesson:
today the animals will learn from me
what it means to be anguished
but agile nonetheless.

disembodiment

tapirs are complex minions of diligence.
the way they go about on low-down legs
with their much too dainty hooves –
parading penumbral beasts, that send
gravity into a measured sway.
their tracks are surely indiscreet patterns
where those in the know
can decipher their only joy –
proceeding to mate with the utmost politeness.
but their voice, we are told, is a feeble zizuzizu
not unlike the squeaking of suspension coils.
sunday, get out of bed and off to the museum
where behind glass their wired skeletons
wait for the second lesson:
today the animals will learn from me
what it means to be anguished
but agile nonetheless.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère