The marbles lie under the benches
Of polished stone and possible dream.
The oranges lie on the tables
Of unpainted wood and impossible sleep.

Countless hats cast their shadows on the square.
A man turns into a blind alley and whispers to the animals
Circling a bin-bag, and to the cemented lines,
Glistening cells of the maze in the wall.
The sweat around his eyes evaporates.

The marbles ring with the illusions of small hands
And a woman says: I'll give you all you want.
The oranges ring with the hurtful hours of big hands
And a woman says: I'll give you all you want.