It is in the small and big hours
That we regularly write poems
On life’s fundamental sadness
About the fistful of a black bird
Who ,at night, comes to sleep
On clothesline with underwear.
We better wear this black bird
Next to our own bodies to save
The black bird from extinction.
A black bird saves a black soul
God’s poet from his extinction.
It is quite a fistful like a heart.
A fistful of heart beats at night
With the midnight dog’s yowl,
Full of a fundamental sadness.