dez anos de geografia nocturna

[...] the dancing girls are/ snoring, the mice are crawling/ in the paper cups, the donkey is/ pinned to the tail, the fable has/ crawled away to die, love is/ covered with dust,/ the temples/ are empty, the bird has flown/ the cage,/ the cage encloses a/ midget heart weeping, the dream/ has taken a dive and I sit/ looking at my hands, looking at/ my hands/ empty of the sound of the/ moment.

Excerto de 'Right Now', em 'Betting on the Muse', Harper Collins Publishers, pag 123.
De Charles Bukowski.