Saturday, August 27, 2005


Unended egomaniac poem

Booze and smoke,
unended egomaniac poems
written with color pencils
on the Yellow Pages.

Booze and dope, no tv,
broken radios shouting
a funny conversation between
Fidel Castro and god,
strange voices laughing behind the walls.

Booze and more booze,
broken ashtrays, dead phones,
scattered pictures of a gone world.
This is no game, never more.

You take a glance to your shoes
and realize you could have been someone else,
someone who reads out loud every morning
la palabra diaria with a razor in hand,
someone who has a serious opinion
about how things should be handled
Terrorism, alcoholism, satanism, modern art,
someone who knows the perfect ocassion for each tie.

Booze and funk, dudes talk,
cracked up ceilings,
drunken mosquitoes crashing agaisnt dirty windows.

Booze in silence, dim lights,
you are getting sentimental,
looking for the connection between your mother,
Lassie and Lucille Ball.

Winter is falling,
thursday morning five o´clock,
tomorrow you better wake up early, last call.
You wish to dream with beatifull junky angels sucking your dick,
they really think you deserve it,
cause you have made such a great poem,
you´re news in heaven.

Booze and booze and booze
and no more than booze and booze and booze.

definitivamente me encanta lo que escribes...

abrazos dominicanos desde México.
You told me once that you were a different poet in English but that not true, you are one and the same poet in English too, one with a beautiful inner voice; this remind me so much of unended days in Madrid and unended afternoons in Santo Domingo, with the Pandora's Box, reading Whitman and Lorca and feeling that life was worth living because we could read aloud and have each other as company, I miss you a lot, my dear brother... "Vive tu vida en un marco de belleza" dijo una vez el mismo Federico.
Diablo, y declamao medio ajumao e que ete poema e ápero...

Debe hacer como 14 años o más que no escuchas esa apodo de mi voz, la verdad es que leerte solo me deja una sonrisa en la cara y una buena sensación en el corazón. Un abrazo. Si el nombre en la firma no lo conoces, sólo agrégale el apellido Abate.
"unended egomaniac poems
written with color pencils
on the Yellow Pages."

Esos me gustan.
Mielda homerito... y cómo es que es??? Será un gran placer volver a tenerte entre nosotros. Un abrazo mi hermano.
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