They neither procure riches for me Nor burn my house down. They've left me dangling halfway Between good and bad luck. A predicament I cannot afford to treat casually. I'm all on edge. I look over my shoulder. There goes some deadbeat Stepping on shadows of pedestrians As if they were scurrying mice. I have to go into a church to avoid him. To our Lord who has withdrawn Into a corner with his wounds I say, that world out there Is a riddle even you can't solve. Afterward, the coast clear, I rush to buy A newspaper and read my horoscope.
What do You think about My Noiseless Entourage: Poems?