My poetry often starts with a word, a sentence, a sensation I stumble upon in my everyday life. For instance, I’m listening to Laurie Anderson singing “Oh superman / oh judge / oh mom and dad…”, thinking of a conversation I’ve had the day before about the difficult relationship someone I know has with his or her parents. “You raised us as / pale ghosts of your / measly dreams…”, I’m thinking. Asking myself if it’s not vital for all of us to “kill” our parents, in a symbolic, psychological, almost Freudian sense, if we want to be able to find happiness. And writing “Oh Mom and Dad”.

Or I’m walking down the street, and pictures, stories, emotions come to mind. Maybe “the wind, / the cold November wind / painting the sky a dark / and rain-streaked grey, / sweeps glossy pavements dirty…”. Or “a streetsweeper hoses down / the pavement in front / of the construction site / where cranes, still silent, / stretch skywards, / whispering to each other / in their lost language”.

It’s often songs, song-titles, music that trigger off the unexplainable machinery that will lead to a poem. I’ve mentioned above how a Laurie Anderson-tune influenced one of my poems. Brendan Perry sings “Utopia”, and I’m creating “Utopium”. Goldfrapp sings “Annabel”, and a whole life-story comes to mind, asking to be expressed in a poem. The Austrian singer / drag queen Conchita Wurst wins the Eurovision Song Contest, some narrow-sphinctered East European politicians call Europe “decadent”, and “Western decadence, expunged” appears in my head. I could quote many more examples (“Improvised”, “The city never sleeps”).

Another possibility: memories. God, yes, Memory Lane—what a rich source for poems! “Picture of the past”, “Feels like home”, “Heathen summer”, “Vandal” are but a few examples of how a memory, a brief glimpse of the past have led to a poem. My third poetry collection “”twenty-five” includes all the above-mentioned titles plus 14 black-and-white photos of my personal collection.