sábado

En una pared de la calle french


Y en el silencio la palabras emergen como esquirlas a la superficie.
De lejos llegan las noticias:
camiones de leche volcados en la ruta, saqueos, libros incendiados, frutas reventadas sobre los bustos de nuestros "héroes"...
¿señales de una revolución?
¿nuestros nombres escritos en sangre?
Pero de este lado del muro el día parece tener el peso de un final.
Te miro. Me mirás.
Sabemos que nos hicimos hermanos en la crudeza de la guerra.
Ahora que el cielo escampa la muerte viene a apagar su cigarrillo en nuestras bocas abiertas por el estupor.
Vamos, hermano.
Es hora de abrir las puertas y las ventanas de esta vieja casa vacía.

domingo

Palabras que sobran por todos lados.







Carajo.
Mierda.
No es justo.
Injusto tampoco es la palabra.
Lo que si, es así.



jueves

¡yeah!


awesome

is an ósom word.

lunes

Oui


Je suis moi.

domingo

Al final sí me cabía Devendra Banhart



I feel just like a child
Well I feel just like a child
I feel just like a child
I feel just like a child
From my womb to my tomb
I guess I'll always be a child
Some people try and treat me like a man
Yeah some people try and treat me like a man
I just they just don't understand
Well some people try and treat me like a man
They think I know shit
But that's just it
I'm a child
Yeah I need you to tell me what to wear
I need you to help and comb my hair
Yeah I need you to come and tie my shoes
Yeah I need you to come and keep me amused
From my cave to my grave
I guess I'll always be a child
I need you to help me reach the door
And I need you to walk me to the store
And I need you to please explain the war
And I need you to heal me when I'm sore
You can tell by my smile
That I'm a child
And I need you to sit me on your lap
And I need you to make me take my nap
Could you first pull out a book and
Read me some of that
Cause I need you to make me take my nap
And I need you to recognize my friends
Cause they're there even though
You don't see them
They got their own chair, plate, and a seat
You know I won't touch my food
Unless they eat
From the roof to the floor
I crawl around some more
I'm a child
And I need you to help me blow my nose
And I need you to help me count my toes
And I need you to help me put on my clothes
And I need you to hide it when it shows
From be my daddy's sperm
To being packed in an urn
I'm a child
And when I steal you gotta
Slap me til I cry
Don't you stop til the tears run dry
See I was born thinking under the sky
I didn't belong to a couple of old wise guys
From sucking on my mama's breast
To when they lay my soul to rest
I'm a child
Well I guess I'm always be
A little child

viernes


A veces me parece

que estamos en el centro

de la fiesta

sin embargo

en el centro de la fiesta

no hay nadie

En el centro de la fiesta

está el vacío

Pero en el centro del vacío

hay otra fiesta.

Roberto Juarroz