Why does the condemned man give thanks
to the executioner when he brings him an unclean rope
and why does the dog bark at thunder
but in front of the rainbow creep beneath human
or eagle’s wings?
The inability to cross
transparently: that anxiety over a doll
whose raggedness hardens in your gaze
on a nail of wax and above the breathless crow
which nightly will tear at under your window
in the hours of the wolf
and crucify upon a gateway
with a single turquoise ray of moon.