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Now listen to this: in the obituary they wrote about me

In my lifetime, they said I was so sweet-natured

That they wanted to keep me as a pet.

It makes me ill to hear them drooling

About my loyalty, my affection, my trustworthiness around children.

Tripe! There's a term for everything alien.

Looks as though time has caught up with me.

And my voice is swimming in the confession:

"I was half zombie, half enfant perdu ..."

Perhaps eventually space gulped me down

Where the horizon closes up.

My double can look after me from here on in.

My orneriness is puked out, plus the question:

Do pets have lighter brains?

from Portrait of the Artist as a Young Border Dog (Not Collie)

Michael Hofmann, translation from
the German written by Durs Grünbein

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