From the bag..., by Alexander Zorin From the bag /
To the floor things fell down. /
And I think /
That the world /
Is only a grin /
Glimmering /
On the hanged man’s mouth.
My bag breaks..., by Paul Schmidt My bag breaks /
and everything falls to the floor. /
It occurs to me /
the world is a grin that flickers /
on a hanged man’s dead face.