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 fate of the grass

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 ...

the unknown smiles

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. 

appreciation letter

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...

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urbanrecall 4