GO WEST, YOUNG MAN!
GO WEST AND GROW UP
WITH THE COUNTRY!
that‘s what the father of my father‘s father used to say;
whereupon I reckoned — no, not the lyrical I
not the I which speaks in this poem
but rather I, the very I, who stands in his room
hunched over his phone, typing away —
the flesh and blood I — that is to say:
Tanner himself.
I reckoned I‘d manifest my own destiny
and so I turned both my head and my devices
out and onwards into the east
til by fortune (or by folly)
my foot found his respite upon a hillside
in Austria, in Österreich, that is to say:
the Eastern Realm, or Easterrike —!
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