A flap of the bird’s wing

Who saves me from myself?

The greatest glory of poetry Is to create for you imaginary friends, Loyal enemies, And half-enemy-friends who are more imaginary and loyal, Of course. *

In the great tempest People appeared naked in the clothes of ghosts. *

The dictator had died so the people rejoiced. They did not know that joy was forbidden, And the public dance was forbidden. So the dictator returned to them at dawn By the sword covered by dust, By the face covered by dust And the clothes of the dust. *