To lower underpants in front of the lawn
is to take a brain x-ray
sitting on a tomb.
Facebook was of little interest
in the ’50s.
The automobile invites,
the steering wheel is highlighted
with a bomb on the side,
stubborn to walk,
that’s why
the bomb doesn’t matter,
it is possible to endure,
the rainy day,
the traveling moon,
expired passport.
In condemnation is worth the camera
that catches the gesture
just before the explosion.
The bomb does not abandon its murderous nature,
unless it falls in love with the victim
or the enemy that accompanies the breath.
Defecating does not harm destiny.
The years hate each other, they murder dreams
and act as misty and imprisoned memory.
To be brave is to tattoo one’s face
and to face landscapes that the morning will excavate
with energetic weeping.
Is there such a thing as beautiful bitterness
or the unnecessary importance?
Screw what is fashionable
because the past is immense
and the real possession does not stop changes
in the pages of the hours.
Screw the first class,
because the last ones
also lead to the end
of a difficult night.
Waking up.
YOU ARE READING
When I close my door
PoetryI dedicate this work to all the friends who are left in the heart. To all those who love me. In When I close my door, a social interest and a renunciation for the sake of communication is explicit, the subject destroys his exterior, recomposes himse...
