I am suspicious of my memory
it only recollects
the reminiscences of the fall
I am suspicious of the room;
the objects are hovering in its air
with a marvelous order
I am suspicious of my hand;
it offers me a cigarette
and walks along the length of the room with me
I am suspicious of these words
of these letters
these emblems
and these days, I like the Dash
more than any other sign,
in text
Other poems
the bird does not deceit itself the plant does not glorify the fruit the pain does not think of the nerve the fate of the grass is not significant for the deer the south does not know of its north the fear is not a distance between the night and the tree crimson ...
in the unknown outskirts unknown forms, have unknown smiles in the form of a circle, they sleep in the form of a rectangle, they go in the no angle form, they give birth in the unknown outskirts, it is the wind that which is passing and on the distributed...
... I remove the chair from myself, I remove the room from the chair, the wall I remove from the room, a square with four open sides, I dismantle the four from the square, the sides I dismantle from the four, I dismantle the square from the sides, ...
that being indeterminate and opaque is all possibility possible (is the omnipotence of eventuality) it knows there is no other possibility or we have forgotten, every possible way.
to the ritual for the anniversary of tomorrow to dig a hole in the wish that it rains to that one that traveled to the past and asked from the reason of the multiverse to the empty space between us to the things and distance from the great darkness to the great...
urbanrecall 4