Wednesday, July 4, 2018





s weat sc issors

sw eat sn ore sw um ((( la
bhasura de mi sueño nunca
hojo ladeado ,orbe ghrasiento
en mis dheditos ehmbrionales las
nhubes rhoncan en mi rhespiración
ache con ache gotas de
insecticida en la lhengua de
hule ,lhengua de huaracheh
desandandoh )tus sesos y tijeras(
)con gelatina encontrada en “Oda
a Papasquiaro” de Ivan Argüelles(

the tree is a hand a
pproaching yr eye a
mirror thrown in a lake your
tongue gristle spat on a road

as dust fills your shirt

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home