You throw the berries in the river
to stun the fish.
A mannequin wants to go nude.
The tormentor holes up
in a bunker.
You undertake a fast
to clean the dirty plumes of
a swan who will not take a flight
in blackening dawn.
The curse was on the hooks
who will bite only the plastic
dolls. O moonless night, I
want to disappear in the silk
of queer crowds.