A world's disappearing.

    Little street，

    You were too narrow，

    Too much in the shade already.

    You had only one dog，

    One lone child.

    You hid your biggest mirror，

    Your undressed lovers.

    Someone carted them off

    In an open truck.

    They were still naked， travelling

    On their sofa

    Over a darkening plain，

    Some unknown Kansas or Nebraska

    With a storm brewing.

    The woman opening a red umbrella

    In the truck. The boy

    And the dog running after them，

    As if after a rooster

    With its head chopped off.