The cat found a radioactive spot in the dog’s white fur.
She slept over there waiting for the ballet.
The black waiter was waiting. Naked, in the dark wall
wearing an imaginary white tutu.

Bring me a saucer of milk, boy
and a comb for teeth!

End?


She died in a silent bark

Thinking there was a celestial song

From Orion constellation





The funerals—whenever you want—at the “swan tune cemetery”, on the burnt side of the sun