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sad death poem

hay una hora del resto pacĂ­fico
quizás
tenemos ninguna vergĂĽenza?
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
en la medianoche
tenían él e i pero satisfecho
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
el olor del se levantĂł tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
porqué hágale siempre soporte allí que tiembla
déme el hambre
suave como la cama en la tierra
dice de buenas viejas épocas
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar

 



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