Es tönte aus einem Kinderwagen
Da fing ich an zu Hinterfragen:
Ist das nicht Tierquälerei?
Als ich dann ein Baby fand
Meldete sich mein Verstand:
Das Kind ist nicht vom Schwarzwald
(Denn das wäre kurios)
Das Kind wird hier am Hafen alt.
Schwarzwaldkinder ‘eulen’ bloß.
This morning Dagmar read the note that her co-worker had pinned to the till: “[The boss] said not to give pasties away at the end of the day. They ought to be binned”. Although Dagmar knew that she would not obey to this new rule, it made her sad, because she did not expect her boss to enforce what was both ludicrous and hostile. Why should she not give pasties away? What makes a bin more needy than a hungry belly? Of course she was aware of the ethos of capitalism, which claims that people should go to the shop and buy products, and by giving them away the business may be jeopardized to lose its paying customers who are under suspicion of waiting for the leftovers, or of remaining satisfied from yesterday’s leftovers. Dagmar was certain that this model was not applicable to the context she was working in, because tourists bought the pasties, and the people who she gave the pasties to were perhaps not able to afford any. Dagmar’s boss, who she wished to be present then, but with whom she had to have a discussion in her mind instead, laughed and said, “Then they just have to work harder, so that they can afford my pasties”. Dagmar was pondering on whether her boss assumed that the recipients of surplus pasties were greedy, when in fact reserving the pasties for the bin is a greedy act in itself – a symptom of the anal-phase that capitalism refuses to grow out of.
Dagmar remembered that she got into trouble before for giving surplus food away. Years ago, when she was working in a supermarket, she had reduced a chicken that was probably inedible as a result of a daylong spin in the rotisserie. It had been just before closing time when a customer was 69 pennies short of the described chicken, so she gave it to him for 69 pence less. A day later, she lost her job, after being prompted to loudly announce: “Yes, I have robbed this enterprise of 69 pence” in the presence of two bosses and a policeman, who had been called to the location. It was the end of an era. In the lower parts of town, Dagmar was also known as the “food-fairy” who regularly brought a bin bag full of bakery goods that were thrown out. Small children were allowed to stay up until after 10:30pm, which was the time when Dagmar finished work and the food-fairy delivered her goods. Chocolate muffins, custard slices, brownies, donuts were amongst the treasures that lit up the young faces, until the day came when the children whispered to each other: “The food-fairy died, because somebody didn’t believe in her”.
Dagmar thought to herself: “If the ruthless drama-queen of capitalism makes such a scene because of a small act of elemental logic, then it is easy to destroy the principles of capitalism”. She continued to be criticized for not growing up, for not making enough money, for believing in the wrong things, for living in a dream world, for behaving unreasonable, for not having any common sense. Yet, she lived happily ever after capitalism.
Die luftige Fisch tut mir so gut.
Mein Alkohol ist voller Blut.
Das katzenhafte Bordsteinlein
Schmiegt sich im Slalom an mein Bein.
Jetzt tür ich meine Schließe auf
Und silb’re an dem Dreheknauf.
Der Kopf ist schwer wie tiefer Schnee -
Klar, dass ich da nie Mäuse seh.
Oder fraß sie gar die Bordsteinkatze?
Sink ich noch denkend auf Matratze.
Ich gotte Dank dass es gelang
Den Abend glimpflich hab verbrang.
Ich lache die Gehöre wieder
und äuge meine Schließelider.