A Poem by Matthias Göritz - Believer Magazine
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A Poem by Matthias Göritz

Reviewing the Résumé

Mornings
there’s the least resistance

My worker-father
confers with himself
Then the doorbell rings
Then a lightning bolt

The backstabber
happens by

In Dad’s room
the weather is at home
Always ledger-filled
Always smoke-filled

At times one felt
it would be dreadful and meaningful

Of course there’s that letter to the father
it says in so many words the tree is already green
he makes our air by taking water and light
and it is something—breathtaking

Won’t you come and behold the icy deadness?
You can barely reveal yourself once a day

Translated by Mary Jo Bang
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