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good bye poem

raza alto-llevada
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
a lo largo de los bancos
las verdades tremendas éstos sean
ella puede ser que lo haya sabido en el resorte anterior
buena mujer
una historia muy notable esto es
melancolĂ­a, azul era
del sol ni de estrellas
flores de bebés
el misterio más oscuro, más extraño
las sombras de las naves
ciudad que no es una ciudad
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate

 



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