Go back to your books, yes you must go back
to these yellow pages of your poems,
for no one is ever kind
and no bells toll for the likes of you .
Just go , to Cavafy and Rilke
for their words were true and compassionate ,
and there was love most innocent .
Just go, under the cover of the night
when the nonchalant footsteps come
with the stench of a dead sky.
For he’ll never love you any more , nor he ever did,
it was a game of flesh after all .
Just go , there’s love
(if that’s the love he knows )
in the crotch of too many men on the street
beckoning to be had,
Just go now, if you must
let the candle continue her soundless cry,
let the dirty lips continue the moderate vice ,
for tonight there won’t be any stars
Oh dein Herz und dein verwestes Gestalt .