One girl in a red dress leaves the shopping center with
empty hands: and you believe in the future— you’ve seen a drop
of blood flee from the luminous cells of a corpse.
         But the sky slips a coin in the slot between two buildings.
Lights go on. Distorted creatures appear. A car, like an angry
heart, explodes.
          And a vast erysipelas spreads over the hills. What can you
do? Each night, the city becomes a butterfly, trembling in its oil.

1979

 = Sarah Kobrinsky