Augusta Laar









swooshed through

in meadow spume before

the green amnesia in

waiting position the large

locust clinking

sprouting new shoots:

come let me eat you

simply die the passive

way—I like that

I am brand spanking new

in slinky pose I watch the

way I’m nibbled off

my bellybutton will be left

floating thick as a finger

above the earth for a

first time all free without

breast without head

an elegiac punk

(rainbow demon) with a

golden tip snapping

flickering (pss-ss-sst)



©Translated by Ingrid Fichtner






supernal the song floating down

from the clouds: over the roofs

they say in the wind syncopes

sometimes dance till they vanish


tiredly the pop star waves bored

half-naked in his wheelchair he

smokes and gets drunk and turns

off the sound the song has landed


snow stars in the school yard the

syncopes are blown away and vanish


on our tongue a film glittering

a potential hit you say so jazzy

so so



©Translated by Ingrid Fichtner






once said she’s a man in a woman’s body since then

some of her kind have been seen in bars in schools in

the streets buzzing like large insects and proving that


Madonna can do miracles. she’s real they whisper the real

Madonna in heaven and she says we can make everything

ourselves the music the world the cherubs yes she said that …


we liked her even better then ’cause she was Italian and

blond like Blondie and she did such naughty things she

wallowed on her mom’s grave and was a virgin despite all


today she’s still looking great she has two kids they

turned out well they say and perfectly dressed they appear in

magazines Madonna did everything right in music women’s


matters & her success but something is wrong with her now

she’s tired like sick of life why don’t you die she says but die

another day ’cause today I want to be tired nothing but tired



©Translated by Ingrid Fichtner






in the elegant cockpit studded

with green guises me trying this

or that I’m half poisoned from it

five hundred love letters


hanging from the ceiling Bob Dylan

on the glass door in black and white

the wildly blurred couples’ hair the

colour of coke my small coffee


tastes bitter but the feel outside

a hertz-braying sweetness the

wind swaying magnolia blossoms

through the city the tramway a


clattering ufo before its kick-start

we air passengers line up in the

green net of geometry & tick & tick

toward the point where time stands still



©Translated by Ingrid Fichtner













Augusta Laar


Artist, Poet, Musician

* 1955, lives in Munich and Vienna. Studied music in Munich (LMU, Richard-Strauss-Konservatorium)

Electro-acoustic poetry duo Kunst oder Unfall, with Kalle Aldis Laar. International exhibitions and projects.


Derector of the reading series Schamrock- Salon der Dichterinnen since 2009 in Munich and of the first women poetry festival worldwide Schamrock-Festival der Dichterinnen since 2012 in Munich and Vienna.


Selected publications:


summt dem fall, poetry book, Edition Art Science, A- St. Wolfgang 2016

als ich Fisch war, ja als ich Fisch war,  poetry book, Allitera Munich 2014

hingerissen in eurer Mitte, (ed.), anthology, 1. Schamrock-Festival 2012, Allitera Munich 2013

99 love poems, poetry book, Gedok Munich 2012

weniger stimmen, poetry book, edition selene, A-Vienna 2004

Numerous publications in literary papers and anthologies, radio shows





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