Today I had the words counted

the tablecloth folded

and I had gathered the stones

the ones we threw to the adulterers

Today I had a long term contract

the laundry done

blue in my chest.

Today I had a speech of flamenco and roses

and wet hair and public socks

Today I received flowers for telling lies

on the felt stage of the academy

So today I want to smoke a cigar

and chase/go after the dark//brown ones

And I’m here among rubble and stoned halls

tantrum and madmen

I had hundreds of lawyers

and now I smoke cardboard

The word “underground” has stuck to my shoes

and smells like shit.

I want wicker and feathers

ink and ambrosia

recite where I’m allowed

being lashed

this is not poetry

it’s so nasty

And thanks Argentina!

for keeping me loyal in springtime

and make me feel useful

reciting my verses with cadence

Now roles are exchanged, without questions

and instructions are impregnated with oil,

and files are revised,

and the names are changed,


lull anyway, anybody

Today all is lust,

all is sloth,

all is dye and digital liturgy

I was the perfect woman

but then, you came

and I began to shave my legs

And now, I don’t know who I am

I’m a hundred things at once

and I’m not the only one

I’m sure of that

and once again

forgive my insistence

but, how you define yourself?

I am a wrong definition

the wasted neatness

the one you mortify, I’m the answer.

I’m the ash and cotton,

I’m the disease of prejudices and its repulsion,

I’m hissings in taverns

I dance and show you my legs

and I split in two every time

you look at my scars because

You forget

that you love me

In spite of

what you say

these long


covered with varicose veins

Despite of your world