Cun remexido de ideas, deume un día por probar a escribir un poemiña en inglés.
Este é o resultado, se cadra con erros,
se cadra non moi bon, pero foi un exercicio interesante :)
____________________
I happened
the winds on a whistle
and got my caution back from it
wrestling restlessness relentlessly
I sold it
my truths for a penny,
plus a cash
discount on marrow
the same me within that collapses,
ribs first,
head second,
over the
rotting apple-free insides of my old youth.
Further
down,
lower flesh,
empty stomach.
Let’s eat
some roses and garlic with passion
And you
shall have me bloom and burgeon and burst with
this new you
this new me
this old us
of creation.
You’d
better caress my emptiness full
as things
only happen
to come to pass when they occur
(not before, nor after).
As it just
so transpires (as
your body,
as my body when it runs still)
that things
happen when you alone happen them
(like I
happened the winds with my whistle)
neither me,
nor him.
Meanwhile,
thick grey
matter’s threads throb and thrive
and I sell my words for a penny,
plus a cash discount
