the painter draws minutely
the windowpane in the cardinal’s eyes
sitting upright in an armchair. that spark of light
near his eyeball is everything. a ray of sunlight falls
on a closed door’s keyhole. a white butterfly trembles
on the veiled hat of a widow. downtown the puppets
turn slowly in a medieval tower clock. the death
between them. a child laughs biting from his cotton candy

Where can I find those things before the hour sinners shared the apple?

At the kiosk they sell warm doughnuts rolled
in vanilla sugar. on a frosty Christmas day
even in the beggars’ pockets some chocolate
coins melt. happiness waves high like a kite
getting loose from its string. over the children’s heads
over their songs with small flowers on the meadows
and elephants in the spider web. there is always a red
tomorrow in the calendar. like the clown’s nose

There comes a time when the sun turns around the earth, then a time when everything is upside down.