At a certain moment
By no one’s clock
The child can not still tell time
The scarlet bird stops its innocent play
And turns without warning into
The city’s bomb.
What can the child do but scream
But hide inside a silver hut
Where he sees out where no one sees in
Where the dream is a dream of petals falling off
Of faces cracked and howling
Of blood in the gutter
Of mothers and fathers hunting
For recognizabel remnants among rubble
Of the body the human body
Doing a charred unnatural dance
–for Paolo