today I don’t lie that well...
when the guard on the rounds asked if
I go on sleeping on the bench in front
of the florists’ stand, then, without the wit
to make up an alibi, I confessed that I
don’t, instead became lately rather fond
of the shadow from the man in bronze,
exactly on the spot in which, in half-sleep,
a couple of hours later on, the same idiot
scolds me off
today I don’t lie that well...
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