
Morning Fog
Vaguely without any purpose blindly
without any pressure of blindness or feeling
of disengagement The immense view –
roofs and roofs TV antennas spectrums
of time and of the clouds on shut windows
the rusted drainpipes the kiosk owner
selling aspirins paper and envelopes matches
cigarettes clothespins he’s completely framed by
the hanging newspapers like a picture of
a bankrupt king when he is busy
with house chores when he hangs
a worn-out shirt he washed himself
while in the kitchen next to the small stove
he has left his big gold ring
with its beautiful stone with which he used to seal
so many foreign decrees without reading them