Volume 10 (Fall 2015)

Moritz Gause  

        translated by Jordan Lee Schnee



Wannsee Station


Black and white skeleton: the branches

covered in snow; on a counter

of the boarded-up snack hut a

cardboard cup of frozen coffee.

On the other side of the street, under

runny-nosed lanterns, children shrieking and

me waiting for you; behind the hut you're

peeing in the snow.



Bahnhof Wannsee


Schwarzweißes Gerippe : das Geäst

unter Schnee; auf einem Fenstersims

des verrammelten Imbisshäuschens ein

Pappbecher mit gefrorenem Kaffee.

Auf der anderen Straßenseite, unter

triefnasigen Laternen, jauchzen Kinder, und

ich warte auf Dich, hinterm Häuschen

pinkelst Du in den Schnee.




Station Neighborhood, Moseleck


The men's toilet: a humid cave

behind the taproom's rapids and

god only knows the provenance

of the cake of soap in the drain strainer

At the bar No Limit throbbing

out of the jukebox and Ernst in a wine red shirt

taps out snuff onto the backs of our hands

he shouts “Poor man's cocaine," and winks over the rim of his glasses



Bahnhofsviertel, Moseleck


Das Herren-WC: eine feuchte Grotte hinter

den Stromschnellen des Schankraums und

nur Gott weiß um die Provenienz

des Seifenstücks im Abflußsieb

Im Schankraum dröhnt No Limit

aus der Jukebox und Ernst im weinroten Hemd klopft

Schnupftabak auf unsere Handrücken

er ruft „Kokain für Arme“ und blinzelt übern Brillenrand




Mexicoplatz Train Station


in a new sport coat

the same tobacco dust as back then

Rummaging through pockets

for forgotten high school days

beer breath, cigarette mouth, and exhaustion

before we were even in the city

without knowing

how kisses taste in the morning at 7:30

a pussy in the morning at 11:00

the platform is cold wetness, full of beer laughs

inside pockets the same tobacco dust



Bahnhof Mexikoplatz


im neuen Sakko,

die selben Tabakkrümel wie damals

Kramen in der Tasche

nach vergessner Abizeit

Bieratem, Zigarettengeschmack und Müdigkeit

bevor wir überhaupt in der Stadt waren

ohne zu wissen

wie Küsse schmecken morgens um halb 8 eine

Möse morgens um 11

der Bahnsteig ist nasskalt, voller Bierlachen

die Tabakkrümel in der Tasche die selben


Moritz Gause (b. 1986 in Berlin) is currently based in Bishkek, Kyrgestan. His publications include CahnIngoldPrelogKonvention (Literarischen Gesellschaft Thüringen, 2012) and

Russische Gedichte (Literaturautomaten, 2014), which was part of the Literature Vending Machines project in Basel, Switzerland. He has received several prizes from the

Hessia Thuriniga Jungen Literaturforum, and recieved the Hr2 Literature Prize in 2011.

Gause runs the Wortwechsel literary project and is a member of the Thuringa Literature

Society.


Jordan Lee Schnee lives in Berlin, Germany and works as a translator and language teacher.

In 2012, a book of his translations of Wáshington Cucurto, Some Dollars, was published in Buenos Aires by Eloísa Cartonera. His own poems have been published in Chautauqua, The Red Wheelbarrow, and Lumina. He received the “New Voice” distinction in the Fall 2010 issue of Chautauqua.


On Libations:

Gause says he enjoys “Grüner,” a beer from Franconia.


My favorites are the potables I ferment in my kitchen— beer, cider, and ginger beer. And we both love “Watzdorfer Landbier,” a beer we drank in earnest when we performed at the Bauhaus. It has old fashioned ringtabs, which make great rings.