False friends

one

two

three

giggling

four

five, are you a noun?

running on the wrong side of the street

six, seven, eight; I will catch you -

nine

hiding behind your friends

ten

Ten.

Your friend is a verb, a tear is not wet, a ten is a -

ten, Ten

A cat is a spiteful woman,

the sensible part of an exhaust,

the lazy term for a boat with twin hulls

Ten, ten, Ten.

zehn.

your breath seeps through my brain

like the plattdüütsche sand dripped through my hands

leaving shell's dust und eine Träne

as salty as the Ostsee

zehn, Zehn, Zehn.

I long to chase you along the streets of Heikendorf

where the cat is only a Katze

catching mice

and miauing auf Deutsch

Between the lines

I found it on a dusty bookshelf

between missing letters of a crossword

and my last sip of coffee

I found it

the wind howled through the streets and pressed its nose against the window panes

I found it and it spoke to me, 

“Here”, it said, “take me, you’ve found me, no one else has found me today and I’m bored, take me, you can use me for now.”

The wind’s fingers grabbed through the half-opened door and under my shirt, I missed my coffee,

I said, “I’m cold and I don’t want something somebody else has used before” and it said “If you don’t take me, I’ll leave and you go home and search for me another time”

I found it on a dusty bookshelf

it disappeared behind the Oxford Dictionary before I could change my mind

and I took the dictionary and went home to finish my crossword