lo que saque de la ultima borrachera

diamantes. dientes. una ceremonia matrimonial.
mi ultima borrachera fue una bolsa.
vomitos varios. canciones mix. besos de ella, besos entre ellos.
mi verga dormia sobre su mano, mi verga suspiraba, dreamingdick

una gota de amor cae sobre tus mil lenguas,
es devorada, con prisa animal
sedientas Hermosas,
mi verga sigue soñando en arabe
marhaba.

12 Coronas, la cerveza mexicana
vacias. bebidas, tomadas, sin alma.
ahora tu cara, ahora tus labios,
debajo de mi verga, la dejo reposar sobre ti.
pesada y flaccida. tus ojos estan cerrados.
tu boca abierta.

derramo mi jugo, dejo que tu lengua escriba en mis pelotas historias cortas sobre poder, anos y fiestas. fiestas a las que no atendi.

me dejo llevar por ti.
por que por alguna razon mi corazon te pertenece.

The Langoliers

such a fucking stupid piece of crap film. but i'm glued to the screen. i've seen it before. and nothing has changed. it's still a piece of crap film. then why the fuck i'm i watching it again? cause i love crap. there. crap is what i like. i see beauty in shit.

turds. feces. dung. copro. mierda. shit. droppings.

the langoliers will eat you. stop wasting your life or suffer the langolier death. time and life. langoliers look like cocoa puffs with fangs. like burnt pacmans with teeth. like turds that bite back.

such a horrible movie. such a good time.

Dear Santa,

It's been a while since the last time I wrote you a letter. In fact, the last time I wrote you a letter it was literally written, pencil and paper. I was 7 years old. I asked for a remote control train. You brought it. It was the most beautiful toy train a boy could ask for. Bright red, eight wagons, with little toy people, all smiling, in the cabins. I set it on fire and remote controlled the fiery choo-choo under my parents bed.



I'm 30 now and I write you, electronically, asking for a firetruck.

hardly trying to be good,
Nico

when the brain became cactus

so, he sat down on the border of the bed. he thought about other countries. two other countries: jamaica and his own. palm trees and lots of marihuana. he rubbed his forehead lazily. yawned for over eight seconds. tears. he smiled.

why jamaica? he's seen the tv spots. all the little black kids having fun, playing soccer and sipping juice out of coconuts. 24 hours a day. it looks like a good place to be. and the white folks have fun as well. girls in bikinis, guys with fabulous abs. 24 hours a day. why not jamaica?

he drank coffee, lit a cigarrette and took a crap.

his head felt heavy. he drank too much the night before. he was having fun, though. by himself. he was a rockstar, an actor, a stand-up comedian, a lion, a leaf. everything but himself. and it felt fine. his brain had become a cactus.

and it was all good.

(untitled)

now i see why
you play dead when i'm around
a smirk on your face
the lights down

now i see why
you play the mannequin when i'm inside
old saliva on your lips
candles on

now i see why
i left you
there
but know i see why
you kept me hidden
closet locked

RAIN OR SHINE

the vultures at the zoo
(all 3 of them)
sit very quietly in their
caged tree
and below
on the ground
are chunks of rotting meat.
the vultures are over-full.
our taxes have fed them
well.

we move on to the next
cage.
a man is in there
sitting on the ground
eating
his own shit.
I recognize him as
our former mailman.
his favorite expression
had been:
"have a beautiful day."

that day, I did.

breves disculpas

por la vez que sin culpa le toque una teta a la borracha que se desmayo en el banho de Flashaback. Ayude a cargarla hasta la ambulancia.

A Paola Libreros: vio mi verga, sin tener porque, en un cumpleanhos de Juan Andres Valencia. Muchos se quejaron y se largaron. Muchos se quedaron, riendo y bebiendo. Recuerdo truenos a traves de las rejillas en las ventanas, (mi pipi parecia el dedo corazon de un vampiro)

a juana: siempre tuve las palabras "adecuadas". Sos un monstruo y pido disculpas por haberte creado.

Panaderia del Penhon: muchas fueron las veces en las que de ahi, despues de rascarme, vomitar y pagar, volvia a vomitar adentro. Gracias. Y a la orden por la musica

Vecinos del Mortinhal: una noche llovieron botellas de cerveza vacias. gracias a dios. al dia sgte. solo una vela en la mitad de la calle seguia prendida.

un cumpleanhos: el cabron me revento un huevo en la cabeza pero creo que el huevo traia una piedra adentro. le patee hasta la cabeza. con los borrachos no se jode. no me disculpo.


mas pronto.