it should be seen in the company of thieves and lovers rather than that of journalists and publishers.
when the electricity fails it should wear dark glasses and pretend to be blind.
it should guide all those who are safe into the middle of busy roads and leave them there.
it should enter burning factories too late to save anyone.
it should scrawl the nymphomaniac's secret on her teacher's blackboard;
at dawn it should leave the bedroom and catch the first bus home to its wife.
at dusk it should chat up a girl nobody wants.
it should be seen standing on the ledge of a skyscraper, on a bridge with a brick tied around its heart.
it is the monster hiding in a child's dark room, it is the scar on a beautiful man's face.
it is the last blade of grass being picked from the city park.