Of rude weight
intoxicated iron
the pressing steel of %
by the shelter of glass
my petty personality
like molecules and wisps
emptying
anomalously
the flame of the wax
streets of melted passion
sad sunken vein of alcohol
morose atom
finally
roaming the expanse of society
and nothing remains
of pure
flashback.
si párpados
plasmados
existiéramos intrincadísimos
poseídos en instante
del instante goteado
saltos de conducción espiritual
todo anochece roto, difundido
hacia absurda soledad de soles
en el pecho de músculo –
la fecunda ruptura
libres del albedrío
navegan los vidrios del aliento
en mar de accidente
a emisión despejada
inmerso, inexplicable
un sentimiento apenas
sobrevolando;
la desaparición del precedente
inicia una ráfaga
con funda de piel
en otoñal caída
a un amarillo
de incomprensible furor
inimitable e irrepetible
descenso
Sacred pus
azure tear of honey
illusion final and deathly
broken ache of eternal fragment
mind hidden as noise – butter twilight
brick dishonestly masking the painful
I glimpse and all else is rain and light
sometimes pause, the dark name of time
find me aging in the salt of the vein
thirsty with the mountainous experience
of sex and surface, the glass of self vs. ideal
contact or the collapse of the soft spots of obelisks
dents of fossils because the mother cries of purpose
skeleton breasts and her milk of the loving ineffability
the drug of understanding, my knowledge of futility
your awry focus on the skin, the nostalgia of eye
love in the bite of flesh and smell of age
more is forthcoming involuntarily
by an intelligence of blindness
the sky and its language
in your mouth
the pus
of
me.
Me lleno de admiración
al ver un hombre
de desdichada circunstancia
como la mía
decir en el apogeo de una intoxicación
que no tomará otra cerveza
y regresará a casa
por motivos desconocidos
a los ahí presentes,
no me acuerdo haber
rechazado una, ni quince
cervezas en tal estado,
siempre siguiendo la dirección
de la lúcida destrucción;
hoy encontré un hombre
que será mi héroe
por la noche que resta
al negar
una última cerveza
por alguna razón
aun ausente en mi
descarrilada
existencia.
I observe myself moving
rather consistently and sensibly
riding my bike in accordance to
god-knows-what prospect
going up steps dandily
sipping tea effortlessly
simultaneously
throbbing anguish
a howl permanently
outstretched, a gash
of purulent sound
like the grumbling
of a terribly cynical
mind
therefore
I am
nonplussed by
so innocent normality
I pretend to embody
while the hostility of the unknown
goddamned world
corners me to the tiniest
spot inside the human soul
almost immobile
condemned to see life as a
glassed-in fish
while in fact
I’m the last conscious thread
dangling atop the
immense abyss
of noise, shape and paradox
unquestionably a plaything
of innumerable forces and trickery;
bearing the high formulations of daily destiny
with a stupid smile and
hardwired etiquette –
all the while
expecting the towering walls
of reality
to finally to collapse
and bury me
in their
filthy falsity
Perdido, conscientemente
construyo el humo
en la atmósfera aleatoria,
he visto
la membrana voraz de lo bello
no hay compañía
en esta demasía trasversal –
no sabemos cómo existir,
en el difuso rumbo del lenguaje
hemos dejado los remos
a la deriva;
ahogado hoy o mañana
espío en fragmentos
solitario y
extraviado
los gestos del ocaso.
The unintelligibility of the hand
arbitrary and soft
the fingers of the lover
enough heat from the sun
a momentary window on my skin
an animal cry
born in every vein –
I’m trembling against the vastness
I’m already in the garden
wondering how these flowers
connect me to the beginning of life
I see your naked body
on the disquieted branch
I am splinter
striking the sky –
have you felt the insect
climbing simultaneously
our arms and forests…
the universe peacefully
on your breasts;
have we knitted our mysteries
with yellow fire
will we love in silence
observing the wild dance
of the worlds –
somewhere with closed eyes
our origin
a purpose incomprehensible
within
all formations and eruptions
your lips are asleep
an epoch
with the rain as memory
we die as children.
this raw piece of paper
in this nostalgia
I place existence
entirely as a dream
as the fragile body of
a newborn
reposing on the page
it is unique and vast
like plain confession of passion
this piece of paper is all
I have this very moment
a solitude of twilight
in the horizon manifest pain
I touch life
and the memory of it
escapes
like the smoke
of this flaming
piece of paper. . .
The throat is the key
long gullet of hope
rebel stomach for rage
my intestines atop destruction
they are the spies
of lies
the accomplices
of alcohol
suicide is salvation
in this state
the answer
is blue sky
empty of
heaven –
the true
mask
who do we kill?
always the last note
sour and eager
futile mote
of dust
and love
finally
an instant
before
I collapse.
Si algo quisiera resaltar
sería lo indómito
inquieto en la periferia
de esa lógica que es inminente
pero siempre accidental
de herramienta quedan palabras
para impresionismo de eclipse –
todo ineludiblemente acaba
y queda únicamente el moroso recuerdo
¿Por qué pretender?
dejo escrito lo somero,
la contradicción
¿Su función?
insinuarme de que vivo
y de paso, manifestar
que entiendo
la paradoja:
lo esencial
es lo que se esconde
detrás de la vida.
Beyond Language 
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