Charles Simic
The weight of things
grows. In the kitchen
an old mutt attacks the dentist
eating from its bowl.
In a bakery one cannot enter
a naked woman sorts muffins
in the storefront window.
On the Street of Jewellers
the shops display unmade beds
evoking the disorder after lovemaking.
A man reading a book about sexual freedom
shuffles along the cracked and pitted sidewalk
past the homeless who sleep there standing up.
This reality might last forever.