An indescribable devilish cut up conspiracy is spread

            on the roads: slogans, baby strollers  

“the uprising will start at midnight”, one said “and that

             way we could tell the time”

and he remembered his despair when he was an ephebe

and didn’t have a wristwatch —

later on, during the Crusades, he opened a small

pension in the name of Jesus Christ, of course, no one

could go near him when he was drunk and detestable

when he cried like the woman who washes herself from

fear of pregnancy. Then the long line of poor people at

           the cemetery entrance

the confection in their dark bags created a black mush

like Acheron. They all passed. Then I sat and waited.

What’s the meaning of five or twelve centuries

in front of the childish drawer with the distant secret?

The couple who died from gas inhalation were

          quickly taken to the morgue

where the interrogation started, with traces of gas on

their closed eyelids, “where are you going?” “To

the balcony”, the woman said

the jurors calligraphically designed on walls and

only the old bailiff was finishing the postscript

when finally the dead couple walked out of

the morgue as the gangrene had already consumed

            half of the city

“It’ll rain” the woman said and they tried to find

            shelter under the stoa

truly forever thoughtful.

Sometimes I consider helping the old woman who

goes out dragging an empty plate behind her

but, ultimately, I prefer to blow the dust off my lapels

             or to gather some wild vegetables

so that we won’t mention the original sin.

Perhaps for this the icons turned holy since they can’t


Indeed, one night I heard Maria’s voice “here I am”

             she said to me

“then everything went well”, I said to her emotionally

since a beautiful dream was coming out of the wall onto

which I had leaned in the deserted road;

then, when I returned home, I found Maria complaining

              as she squeezed the mop;

I couldn’t take it anymore: I choked her hastily and since

              then I’ve lived with the other;

to make the long story short everything reminded us

of Christmas or better the rails of the train onto which

two crazy men sat like birds

and you, my good old friends, loaded on lorries from

              before dawn

lost to your own hand even if the newspapers reported

              you as executed.

I then ordered the devil to hold the candlestick, I buried

the mirror too so I couldn’t remember and fell asleep

              for a thousand years.

The kiosk at the corner reminded me of my sweet

              fat mother.