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sábado, 14 de junio de 2014

The possibility




Permit me to change
To create and transform
To raise a protest
High above a deep hole.

Brief land, always offended
By the complaining of its birds
For its weary breath
Of those who do not feel it.

One lie after another
The fragility of preaching
In the tortuous rooms
Where only one woman
Supplies pleasure to hundreds

Eyes well opened
But only to everyday things
And the mouth ready
Only to repeat.

Then in the subways
Those we emerge from each morning
With our double breasted suits
And our shoes that look shinny.

Talking about money
Generating more money
Like adjusted pieces
Of a barely comprehensible machine,

To cry for the time
To discover the right moment
The order of events
For someone who fears scandal

Promises for shortages
An ongoing party for the uncontrollable
While the dishonor of the race
Sprinkles the stones with decay.

And that it matters little or nothing
Except for some type of miracle
A smile can be more than this
And the whole world can fit in a man.