How To Address Sympathy Card Of Grandmother

Applications

Hawk
clean peak in their plumage and their prey
expected. The carnage
silence rather
splashes of blood. Finally, things are not clear
,
light passes
buildings is not intelligible,
is the worst language.
lost
lips twist carpet
a strange land and its inhabitants
up and orphans ask the silence

What emergency /
what story /
hides an application at night /
for a soul that is often confused with his mother?

Cruelty, maybe. If a soul



just want to talk like going to the guillotine
of the sublime
and can not even look in the eyes of his interlocutor

traitor even though it is believed that the poet
home
throws out the window, which tears
the dignity of the skin like a bandage,
connoisseur brains before parler. Hardness
what we speak, then? -
By God! If a soul unravels obscurantism
lingual people wandering
while blowing the nose
in a strange room,
and unresponsive to the famous traitor


is because he knows he has
masks, bones

stories, laughter and monuments

-the untruth, the adulteration of the poet.


Poem / posted by / Emma
Villazón (Santa Cruz de la Sierra, 1983).