We are faster than the ground we step on
more quick-spirited than the love relationships we have
we get to the destination before us
we end in the ground before the ground
in the woman before
when you look into your eyes
you can see
the scaffold within the letters in the cone of the first idea then the spider
weaving its web
between your brain and the other things
double networks
how nice to be
a sort of a minigod
of poetry
you take a star
from there
and you place it
over there
you click on
all constellations
eventually
and thus
you create miracles
Huallaga Valley
infighting: loss of leftist support
jailed militants
Canto Grande
a 315 meter long tunnel
outside self-defense committees
the working class
has grown enormously
MRTA isn\'t
attached by a narrow stalk
wasp speech tool
frighteningly accurate
the barley compedium extravaganza
hoots your trap off
New Mexico, contaminated
by an alien germ
from a crashed
a true guidance, the rumbling of wheels.
never could I understand sonata da camera
flat minor, tongued minor
criteria unabridged, devout sense
of what is right
moving would be
let me tell you something
( I\'m nervous )
and as always whenever I\'m nervous
I\'m thinking about you and I feel like pissing out fear
forgive me for not believing in the winter\'s white
by knotted shawls enveloped, soirées on the road
fork into my eyes obscure usages
of a point of view
perhaps not yours, young man
who stole a coke can hiding a record now
.
home shoes
I find it impossible to have the most vivid and hard parts of my body drilled
without tasting the bitter filth within the muscle
yet, there’s a particle that might bring order into the
there’s nothing sadder than hearing old people
in the asylum at sunset sharing endless confessions
about the prostatic symptoms they are passing
of the lungs and kidneys’ disorders
weakened by the
I folded my feelings with the utmost precision
in a pedantic way
I removed the dust from the shelf, too
now here it is the order you’ve always wanted
if this made you happier is all I would ask
I was looking absent-mindedly at the man
behind the mirror. he’s bored too and lights up
an imaginary cigarette, opens his nostrils wide
and sighs as if the entire universe is dripping
from his
some time ago
down-blocks rose on virgin mary’s vagina
and it smelled like compressed concrete religion
or the workers’ sweat pouring tar on the roofs
now time has peeled the sidewalks
but then we
There are mornings when I would not open my eyes
as if the end had begun yesterday
and if it occurs to me to open them, it’ll be painful
a future’s healed traces of an ending love
by essential
look at him how he’s stuffing wild strawberries in the salt cellar
and the jam in the ballet dancer’s goloches from the bar
I care today
as much as two spins made by the hoop skirt
a
the fourth gate is a drop held in a spoon
practically floored, one of the many zeros
kicked off bored (dawns without a rainbow
take a ride closer to the emperor’s statue)
with every little
a circumstance’s effect, as much as each sewer
reeks of when its mouth open
every weakness raises from the sour steam
so as the cut discreetly made to swell the rust’s sore
snuffed out cigarettes find solace
in wiped pains, hiatus in the fireplace
so very close, a deaf octopus
weds the MILE in berliner tinsel
renewal proviso
not for a single moment altered
two generators of coke gas
each for crematoria II and III
the undertaker\'s hat lacking oxygen
in locomotion on a tarred world map
metal torpor feigns innocence
bodies, relieved of
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