How much homelessness and
homeyness drifts
along with the evening
We should use gloves for hygiene
when steadying
those who cling to life
Look how even in summer some old
folks sport
protective cotton on their hands
Touching all those greasy and
caustic surfaces
can corrode the skin
How many sights throw colorful
but thin pancake
batter in our faces!
Who’s shaking that chrome
cocktail shaker
where bubbles ascend to heaven
as the balloons of our breath?
Where does the wild catapult of
the bus kick us
with its iron boot?
Why do I dice my gaze into the
soup?
Isn’t it better to swirl on top
of it as a droplet of fat?
