The outlines are bleeding
Climbing up the trapeze
(A lady-acrobat was falling
Right into the middle
Of the crowned screams)
And disappear
Just think
There are no bounds
No circular train-lines
Of the skin
Everything flows into
His ears
There is no waiting for
Midday
No corruption
In exaggerating the hope
(A lady-acrobat is turning
Upside down
The legs sticking out stiffly
The neck and the heels
Entangled)
The weight and the sky
Exchanging the countenances
Become a piece
Of a fingernail
Cut somewhere in the desert
Of Good Morning
Unwrought in the
Still golden chaos
The Absolute
Hunches its back
Trudges laboriously
To the table
Pours in the same tea
Waits for the latest news
The sea splashing about
And into the shoes
The sea gulls
Taking out threads
From the stitches
Now the wound
Is left alone
2000
***