A bird with a bright red head,
Brown back and rose-tinted breast,
Like the dawn,
Is perched on a child's goal posts.
My woman sleeps
And her rich green, orange underwear,
I, abandoned by my gods,
Am left to my thoughts.
Maybe in this noisy, polluted city
A man with a gun
Might stub them out
Like this cigarette.
A man with two Chihuahuas approaches me
And bids me good morning.