hablar

con las almohadas, con el cigarro, con la luna
y las hojas rotas en el piso.

hablar como si nada
nadie te escucha

hablar muda con el cabello
la distancia y los autobuses

hablar con las letras invertidas
la lengua tiesa

como un ahorcado que te mira fijamente
dulce y sereno

ahí te quedas.

como una antigua construcción
que nunca terminé de recorrer.

días larguísimos

para leer...y olvidar lo que leo, tendrán los pies en un par de pantunflas nuevas, regalo de mi hermana, una tasa de café, y muchas pelí­culas que ver. el ramsés ¿pintará su habitación?, y echaremos del departamento algunos objetos (otra vez, parece que los objetos nunca acaban de irse, aparecen otros parecidos, alguna vez corrí a dos candelabros pero después ya tení­a otros, que pronto estarán en el bote de la basura)

los recuerdos falsos

son terribles

las mujeres falsas

son terribles

se paran en una esquina de tu vida
y escupen sus tiernas palabras
deslumbrantes, cálidas

el veneno en la lengua
y en los ojos
la belleza infinita
de que nada es cierto

The Future
Leonard Cohen
Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!
Give me crack and anal sex
Take the only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is murder.

Things are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won't be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant

You don't know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder

Things are going to slide ...

There'll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You'll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin'

Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is murder

Things are going to slide ...

When they said REPENT REPENT ...