From: Tolls (1972)
B. How I made squares from the circles of dreams in the shape of an airshaft of a tenement building
Decadence
knows no deadline.
It comes like a summons
and simple as that
puts your furniture out on the street.
Around you the children
peer at
the back of your chair
where in an adolescent
outburst
you had written:
Lies — Lies — Lies.
In the end
you load only the bed
onto a passing motorcycle
and move
to an unknown address.
Translated by Karen Van Dyck
Page(s) 102
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