Returns;
scribbles on pages already torn. It keeps
spilled into her eyes, and embroidery
songs
lies as mythology.
bike parked in the rain.
The wind carries away the umbrellas
the ladies from the colored clothes. There are gestures as
boxes of gifts already discarded
life and waiting
in a marriage against nature
, Gypsy musicians from Santa Claus hats.
gray afternoon by suddenly
like in the movies black and white-papers
to puff here and there
inside and outside the Cafe
rants I see adolescents
in kisses while stopped raining here and there
kindled the street lamps.
* The man who laughs in a dark park.
* Victor Hugo's masterpiece
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