this is the story of
the embryo's fear,
what he had been, recurring over
and over again, a downward glance
where between thumb and index finger
nothing could be reconstructed any longer
in the jar, where thin cannulae
had sucked dry all
he knew of himself,
allowing it to proliferate
in another's head, what
a hare-brained product,
to bury
the soul in the space of time,
in a selfless being, tested
as a rat,
without kidneys, heart, eyes,
innards craving for
multiplication, to go to the happy
hunting-grounds, first and last
life on fertile soil
(he who comes well, should also eat well)
are father and mother
all in none, dividing themselves
into a third
construct of their fear,
capable of reproduction

Translated by Hans-Christian Oeser & Gabriel Rosenstock