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Beautiful city, machinery,

people in plaid pajamas in the park,

another record in the book,

in a notebook pointless and finals.

More one whip, whip,

sugar candy in the cupboard, -

where not warm, but the food,

where everything smells then.

Adults might, like children,

dancing in hospitals,

tears into a glass from a bottle,

blurred boundaries.

Torn arms

from Magadan - in Nice,

shout curses,

or needle stitched.

If the vortex does not argue

somewhere in the silence with,

would all Nature,

and not dull despair.