Weiß ist das Leopardenfell des Himmels
He observes, discovers the poetry of the present. Everything can be poetry. He suffers from the world, but he doesn't resign because he is a poet. He writes sparkling poems, connecting synesthetically but precisely: the world in the thimble. No meandering, no ornamentation, scarcity to the utmost. The poems of Matthias Buth seek and thus invite the reader, who can contribute his experiences into the imagery of text, to a dialogue.