fragility
woman in the supermarket
knocks at the watermallon
asking for fruitfull meal where
seeds stain the smiles of friends
red water flows in the blood she has gathered;
worker in her smoking breack
pufs the smoke with its bends
that releases anxieties she cannot breath
begging her imagination to be consistent
as the tabacco that she inhales to stab her world;
scientist bending his back at the laptop
a screen that reflects all that he has sweated
lines and numbers stretching on the graphs
that are his oracles and his dull magicians
for the evening manifestation of his criptic flesh;
walker passing by the halley
his sight has no space for bricks
clay under his soles echoes with geographies
where his decisions eroded the mother rock
in fragments that do not amalgamate in diamonds;
there is a lady that says of herself
that she has been capable of feeling love
with blank eyes flashing toward no landscape
talks to her friends to receive their balsam voices
that she will not have to point her mistakes again;
an unfinished poet savouring his letters
wails his cry in the womb of engulfing art
for the sentences he had failed to change
that made the singing ghost he is split into
marching toward a canvas betraying its crimes;
a crawd of youngsters has gathered
they drink and play music, hint on some moves
that would be the ticket for more joy to deliver
they speack with words they have heard around
trying to make them vibrate with no shallowness;
among them one stand asides
he has joined for he feared loneliss
but he hears in the laughts of his mates
a dark corner where his thoughts dive
with a promethean promise he blindly embraces;
the city screams with advertisments
with noses lifted up the glasses gleam on
the clothes stirr with the breeze of honking cars
but no cover has yet found how to stitch together
the meat that has no mind to know itself
only veins that are sprouting to drink the air;
a person that is already dead in its gaze
is not destroyed by voices tattoing their guillotine
