43

My child, the world has
a birthday gift for you:
a new carousel, not with horses
but with pink and blue bombs.
Don't worry -- the bombs aren't real.
How merrily they go up and down to the music -- can't you hear them?
The carousel is so new, my child, that it doesn't have
a single child's fingerprint on it.
What did you say? Well, you dreamed about
some good-hearted robot
and he built you this carousel
out of his cybernetic fata morgana.
Even a robot was a child once!
Jump on that carousel, kid, and don't be scared --
They assured me that the bombs are just toys.

56

I let you come into my secret world.
There is nothing interesting here,
just electrons scoured clean of emotion.
There are no sins, just lichens
gnawing at the rocks.
The sun, the sandstorms
have nothing to do with us.
The comet is alone. I am alone --
we both are strangers, nations without borders.
Even uranium is unfree,
since nobody knows about bombs here.

I free myself
into this real world
where even poetry does not exist.