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Uninhabited and corrupt,
our bodies grow tired
Masses without name
are crowded around failures of the big-bang.
Their capital hides between marble columns,
causes between words.
Confused, without father.
We have seen ourselves
through fallen hands,
the migrated arms of other people's dirt,
of crazy circumstances,
of reliable compromises.
We are ourselves lost.
Aiming accurate at question,
that asks inexact.
Pawned and anxious, lacking speech,
open, obscene and lowered, posthumous.
.
There are inert drug vertigos that lose our pupils.
An acid image of smoke between lungs.
Desire collapses, entering by the veins.
Alienating the affection,
blurring the view.
The peripheral vision of a world
with barbaric spasms.
It distills between your teeth
brother
you and I have seen it between the laughter. |
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right here, capitán
starting my second cup
of cream-coloured (English
spelling just for the hell of it)
coffee. |
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| | | From: _susan_ | Sent: 10/22/2008 5:21 AM |
this was so apropos. of course my favorite lines were: We have seen ourselves
through fallen hands,
the migrated arms of other people's dirt... what else do you see between the lines of laughter? s.
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