Parading

since between then and now no new coincidences have been noted

I know what life is

Of the seas in the corner

you make poetry out of it

and somehow honey   dripping down

The sky is listening; the sky is as hopeful

It has no knowledge except of nothingness

‘s not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather — as skies

postbox for the inner ear. Tarantula’s footstep,

Y ¿quién prueba mi paciencia?