Friday, August 5, 2011

Jakob van Hoddis (1887-1942)

World's End
The hat flies off the burgher's pointed head.
There's an echo of screams and shouts in the air.
Roofers are crashing and breaking in two.
Along the coast, the papers say, the flood is rising.

The storm is here, wild oceans are hopping
ashore to crush big fat embankments.
Most people have a runny nose and sniffle,
and trains are falling off the bridges.

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