Appendix And Cloudy Urine

A 33 years ... NEVER AGAIN! [...]


NEVER AGAIN!


neither forgets nor forgives!
TRIAL AND PUNISHMENT!

"If each hour is coming with his death
if time is a cave thieves
the air and not the good air
life nothing but a moving target
you wonder why we sing

If were not hug our
parental almost dead with sadness
and a man's heart was shattered
before it exploded the shame
you wonder why we sing

sing because the river is playing
as there's smoke, sound the river
sing for the cruel unnamed
and instead have your destination name

sing for the child and that any
and that any future for the people
sing for survivors
and our dead want to sing

If we were away as a horizon
if here were trees and sky
if every night was always a lack
and every waking a mismatch
you asked that we sing

sing that rains down on the groove
and peace activists are
and that we can not want
let the song do ash

sing the cry that is not enough
and not quite the tears or the anger
sing because we believe in people
and that overcome the defeat

sing that the sun will recognize
and the smells of spring field
and that this stems, in that fruit,
each question has its answer. "

Decals To Suit A 1974 Harley

This morning I woke up in the shadows that lurk in wet sheets. Among the seven words that shouted against the wall and door, and I slashed his face with the edge of silence . This morning I woke up sleeping with the ghost fills me, sometimes, between dream and dream, and invites me to not feel the breath of the tracks that try to be among so much mud ivy.
woke with a swollen face, wrinkled, unpresentable, say the neighbors prying the corner. Impresentable the loneliness that accompanies me to the bakery, pantry, to the kiosk. Impresentable recognize in the mirror with her dress on Friday afternoon. Unpresentable ways of interpreting the day and night, after dawn amid the screams and the silences between the walls shake me.

P/n 5069 - 6732 Driver

The loneliness of Manuel

Manuel has round eyes like two moons. And occasionally, I try to see me on the sidewalk where the sun can not blind him. Manuel gives me the sunsets are not too many, and distills my words across the river to avoid hurt. Manuel plays with his hands drawing circles in solitude defined and unchanging eternity. These solitudes that you stick to your cheek against the pillow when we wake up every morning. These solitudes that you run in the wash the toenails and braid your navel with copper wires. Are the wilds of Manuel, and mine. Manuel is the life and mine. Because Manuel has his eyes round as moons, and the corners and two tiny seeds of figs, where we can leave alone at the rack every time you smile between wine and silences. Manuel and I walked loneliness embracing the halls of the house, those who overlook the garden where we play to be free and we drew some daisies. The corridors and the garden smells a bit in December and January. The vocals of Manuel also have scent and a bit in December and January, and I know nectar, to moist loneliness, the daisies in the garden. The vowels of his name undress me every morning at coffee time, and I wear foam every time my attempts to strip his loneliness.