the house is the mouth cave the house is the mouth cave. the house is the text of its inhabitants. is it fair to speak of the breath, the deep breath of the people living in the house? is it fair to speak of the breath, of generations that have lived in the house? bad breath in a stuffy house. odours in the stairwell and from the windows in the neighbourhood breath from the woman who just gave birth fast breath, rattling,of someone dying. the windows are open, the front door opens, a person leaves the house, hesitates, turns around, goes back into the house, returns with an object forgotten the first time, it is 10:35. is it fair to speak of the breath of the inhabitants and their forgetfulness? of the speed with which a deserted house becomes a deserted house? is it fair to say that the stones inside the house come unexpectedly? is it fair to say that big stones have ended up in the middle of the living room

where they don‘t belong? what, son, will the neighbours say? son, have you thought about what the neighbours will say? the neighbours breath in their houses, mother, they leave the house, turn back because they have forgotten something, but, son, what will your neighbours say when they discover that the garden is in the house? mother, my garden breathes in the house, breathes like my neighbours do. everybody has plants in their house, mother! i turn around, i turn the house around because i forgot something. i have turned the house upside down! is it fair, son, to talk about the house breathing so hard that the second floor can drive on the street! mother, all the neighbours will want a ride when they see what my house can do. the house yawns, it breathes, mother! the house tastes its inhabitants, it opens its mouth cave. the house breathes, it is the text of its inhabitants. the house is at home with itself, it shows itself, it shows the sum of its breath: the house is the mouth cave. © Thomas Kling Translation Catherine Schelbert