sábado, diciembre 18

Dejar la gravedad
la pupila caída
reirme de la ingenuidad
de la sordera
imaginar mi cara de mala tragedia
los huesos salidos
mi aire de pájaro mojado.

Dejar la pupila caída y cantar
como final
un corrido:

Él fue mi vida;
yo era su querer.

domingo, diciembre 12

Summertime, and the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
Oh! Your Daddy's rich and your Ma is good lookin'
So, hush little baby, don't you cry . . .

One of these mornin's you're gonna rise up singin'
Then you'll spread your wings, and you'll take to the sky
But 'till that mornin' there's a nothin' can harm you,
with Daddy and Mammy standin' by . . .

But 'till that mornin' there's a nothin' can harm you,
with Daddy and Mammy standin' by . . .