He has a muscular torso
With a thousand erections
Lighting up the night sky
But none sticks up more
I used to paint with linseed,
Now I paint with crude oil.
Draped in cheap oil and sweating oil,
Death will come with your eyes—
this death that accompanies us
from morning till night, sleepless,
deaf, like an old regret
A blind and deaf bullet buried in the field
Dozing through decades of blood and bones
Then one morning
In a bustling future
I’ll give you a roll of barbwire
A vine for this modern epoch
Climbing all over our souls
That’s our love, take it, don’t ask
Man and woman watch each other lying in bed:
their two bodies stretched out wide and exhausted.
the man is still, only the woman takes long breaths
that quiver her ribs. The legs distended
Why be ashamed? When one has done time,
if they let one out, it's because like everybody else
who belongs to the streets, one has been in prison.
Again the rain will fall
on the sweet pavements,
a light rain
like a breath or a footstep.