Murakami In Bavaria by Neil McCall
From a dozen little dorfs
square-faced clocks donged out the hour
and woke the storks on the steeple nest;
the goshawk swooped through the orderly conifers
to blitzkrieg the duck flotilla
and I dreamt of doomed girls
with forest-black hair
and necks white as beer froth
swept away like cranes
migrating on the kamikaze wind.
