TO WAIT FOR A MILLION YEARS
“I’m growing weak slowly. Maybe I’ll be not myself when they find me.” Silvio Rodríguez. I have lived countless centuries, …
“I’m growing weak slowly. Maybe I’ll be not myself when they find me.” Silvio Rodríguez. I have lived countless centuries, …
When every screen shuts down, when every thumb gets still, then we will know what happened to us and will …
The voices are gone. In the muteness of these nights and days preceding them, their faint reminiscences wilt, as microscopic …
Come to me the words that one day boiled in the dense stew of vastness. Their open dams flowed and …
The first rains that came upon Mars arrived sudden and torrentially, flooding with its unthinkable catastrophe the slopes in the …
The same Fates that wove the sweet garlands of our joy, forged our misfortune links and squeezed the bitter juices …
“To produce the whole of its effect, then, the comic demands something like a momentary anesthesia of the heart.” Henri …
Here is returning for me the silence, as a bastard brother that never forgets. It returns full of words and …
“Right here. I have this feeling that just right here, nothing I bring about from right here…” La Ley. When …
If a dare to call this stuff poetry it’s just because the box of concepts and categories can handle anything …