Innocent stranger,
Indeed, you bloom around the gills and fall
beneath the radar under the sky dripping with
illusions
the crying woman rocks her child to sleep
and a scarf drifts over the rubble of her features
her torn up life in the ruins she now lives
walls crumble as pepper dust drying out
the wheels turn and grind away her teeth
she is left with the license
and invites her friends
in public but the chairs were
burnt by the soldiers for firewood
the night they lost her roof
the planes fly overhead
and louder than ever
the rain on mother’s big bed
and the lines down the walls
where the water runs
she lives thus in the minds of the mingling
she takes the dogs out for a walk
and leads them out of the trap
and into the summer
the illusions kept between
four lines guarding the
boundary of her thought
the gates of reason
closed until the return
of the florists and the bell ringer