
He always went out for a walk, serene, almost in good spirit,
when he met the caretaker who was begging someone while
his glance was hanging like a dead dog.
He grabbed a knife and dug out both of his eyes that rolled
and fell into the sewer.
Since then he leads the birds back into the house.
Report
Night fell; time one reviewed his life. And the dead went
to bed, crossed their arms as though what they looked for
they could touch, at last, inside them.