I can see on a table
silver forks
and cups equal in weight and shape,
to understand that there
I won't enjoy any food.
If the waiter came in with the tray,
I would stand up and snatch the
tray
because you would understand immediately that
I couldn't enjoy any food there.
A crystal chandelier is enough,
over the ridiculously foreign name
(especially if you carry the
vulgar 'park') of a central Hotel,
so that you know, how do I know the name of
Rimbaud, who could not swallow there
not a crumb of bread without him knowing
to stone The golden edge reaches me
of a plate to find out immediately
that I will never be welcome in that house.
And if it were,
If only it were, my God! because
I will have stopped being myself.