blood
doubt the power of quicksilver
doubt,
doubt, and that doubt me
dissolved in a translucent body condition and poorly permeable
dense
a body that
hits doubt their finest fever, with his cohort
gray and halftone
with uncertainty as
flag and a resistance to what arthritic infallible
to the predictable, to the resolution.
I can say that, not being a composition
exact
nothing allows me to enter my state in the everyday
more border solved
and buy the newspaper,
shot and crushed on the ground the butt of the whole day, while walk
my cooker for the cemetery,
and insult to the old by certain smell pee and mothballs
peed in a bank to square the circle drawing, chess
and against the clergy
submit the opinion of my bishop,
is an attempt to qualify my range of neutral,
where I get lost in a sort of orange
fallible, imprecise
question and untimely, full of insecurity.
If then I run into sincere love,
not accept it, I destroy,
and once dead,
cry! and cry!,
hear in the echo shells, starfish, seahorses ...
waking moments that swept not sleep.
I do not feel the consistency of the body,
to an orgy of doubt,
normally increases the tropics of the roofs, as disparate
paradise can be no better inn.
I see a cat walk your buzz by plenty of windows,
distant stars play hide and seek in a sad canopy of smoke, walk
shingle shingle, rising ladder to the most imperfect of the roof.
(Unpublished Poem)
PEDRO FERNANDEZ JUAN BLANCO is one of the authors of collective THE REPUBLIC OF IMAGINATION , in which their poems parcitipa Sigh, love, sighs .
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