Wednesday, June 12, 2013

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

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



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

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

stuffed it all back in


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