Monday, January 25, 2016

stung of time
- For CMB

finger dead born
final pair of
pants appeared
a single thunder
snow to be was
black spools or
watches anchored
pools of stones
you never said a
word you never
drank the insects
seated at the
marble game the
numbers numbers
clock no sound no
beery sweat ru
nning down a glass
mute palms itchy
thumbs smear your
afternoons sleeping
restless at the table
las pintas que te dicen nonada

Panicked in the grass of
Ivan Argüelles' “Cerveza Negra”


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