NOT EVEN

Not even poetry,then, not even poetry

You knew it in advance when from the seventh heaven

you lowered, tied with a rope,

that old kitchen basket

with the shaving machine, the bread, the shoes,

with the little mirror and the mute canary.

You left it there then; you did not raise it up. Little by little

the nettles smothered the basket. Nevertheless,

you still keep the rope tied to your bed rails.