The streets were paved with sherbert all along the detour we’d be thrown onto.

It’d been a long time since I took small steps with the Devil, that emperor of afternoon naps.

A woman passed us with her hand fastened in a wave

And everything dissolved into the white festive colors of an owl’s necklace.

Two lawyers with statuesque legs

And I were drinking from a vase and tossing bisquits between our lips

On an oil field. “Look at that woman opening her pots,” sneezed a German over his accordion.

A stuttering song kept us in our seats placidly until Tuesday.

An éclair... then the night! Fugitive bow ties

Were looking at me from the coffee cart and the cream of the desert spilled into my lap.

Did they wish to see me adding my steps to the dance in the milk factory?

Those of you in the maternity wards, it is best to keep ice on your crotches! Too late! You’ve put jam on your ass!

How could I ignore the ambulance’s fruits when the tuna tells everyone why I’m crying!

O you who love me with your juices! O you who already know!