pesadilla no es

yr “loot” ,pore ,mast

ectomía ,fantod scra

wled past yr cheek a

,went ta ,galf yad ,m

eat wandering ,fin

gers shadowed through

yr skin a fed neck

.Pissy corn ah alpo

an tweezers !)yr sh

aking sores(  it’s the

last dog fl echado the

l ast pulga comida the

las t too th shining in the

throat

Duerme absimo mío...

- Roberto Bolaño

 

hand tlaloc

my heavy blood cli

mbs the stairs the

maze ,you comb and

leave the rice you

mind  .age’s inch

and cloud  .what

bees ,and foggy

lint clustered in your

sack I calmed the

walking rain your

aimed page behind

,utter water and your

back gets kicked

damp flag and tongue detail

  

yes

days of coal days

of ,usual like topos

,a fan clattering in

the window  .your

ice sheet ,to

wering and

my leg jumps and

jumps  .your clock

conclusion bruised

triumphant

was a plate ,under the door

  

shore hole lens

the shore the hole the lens the

, “aftosa” , , , , , frog dream

,arroz con pús tula tu

c lock nianimoso y los de

dos ahogados  .ruminate

,the ruins ,trashy beach ,f

ingerprints on glass what’s

seen or peed my ,g

argled wallet or my

wordless dribbling from

your lips  .ymmug sdrow

,anu atrot noc omol

noc azatsom ,x edoc ed

elomacaug

stuffed it all back in