AMUSEMENT PARK




I know only too well where I have to go this evening if I want

to meet up with sadness. Its availability is surprising –

its diary full of empty spaces – when I am

the one concerned. We agree to meet

above everything. The wheel rises, slow

and silent like a huge cosmic clock

that the wind operates from time to time.

Far-off, submerged in the waters of night, the city

shines with its golden scales,

thousands of dumb mouths opening and closing

while they swim through life’s icy currents.

How long have I been going round on this wheel,

now so close to the world, now so far away?

Like an astronaut lost in space, I search for a cable

that may connect me to the breathing

of others, warm oxygen for the beseeching lungs.

I look at my right hand, I look

at my left hand, and it takes me years to cover the distance.