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joaquin-cruzalegui
joaquin-cruzalegui
Argentinean buenos aires-argentina-based argentinian poet ////////////// / words tell us stories
settlement. now what? settlement. snow & no hat. match, hatchback: noise, death, money ---> nothing distinguishes better MEMORIES from MOMENTS than the SCARS they leave. settlement. follow follow. settlement. destroy with no sorrow. i'm taking mexican food, this queue is evidence. settlement. you'll conquer every piece of land you step. settlement. god'll take the form you need. dreambook, hate fact hook ----> baby poems in the dark: they tell light is nothing but two or three ideas altogether. no sorrow?? uhuh maybe tomorrow.
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Jan 22, 2024
Jan 22, 2024 at 1:49 PM UTC
mexican food in berlin
dive in your blood, get rid of your skin, break down your own bones, drive, disrespect the seasons: don't you know, don't you know? blind in smoke, smoke in your eyes. get born above the fire, airoplaining desire: build your own gods and their temples: so that someone or something can haunt you or hunt you down. don't worry, **** your heart and eat its ghost shout why cut your mouth try your lips let the air become blue parfume don't you know you can't quit what you don't have? don't you know, don't you know? vacant hours with no fury sure shot: by the window forever for-e-ver we were ment to be, by error or mistake i'm sure i think
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Jul 17, 2023
Jul 17, 2023 at 12:00 PM UTC
sure shot
the sunken earth and the background river: close your eyes, other part. the time sleeps on your lap or under the curve of your lids. version of us, text message. imagine smoke in the air -swear distance- the smell of rain and the background river: remember, we were part of somebody else’s dream / no command crash for which blood holds no allure. the smile of a dancer, burnt wandering. please, something like wind carrying sounds something like dark lips speaking slowly. can you feel the hunger-driven poverty of desire trying to reach my skin? or the feathers of fire keep on needing? up. your night hair a quiet beast inside a lung that is mine. I never been stabbed but I can tell: some dagger going through a melted chocolate candy bar that is called ‘heart’.
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Dec 5, 2022
Dec 5, 2022 at 3:10 PM UTC
during a zagreb tram
We dream of electric shocks, data, meetings and dirt roads away from the pavement. Sunday, sun people, indiscriminate leisure. Papers, the dog that smiles. This gymnastics makes us better people. We make up words that sound good. poems and fruit salads. who would suspect that is a pompadour a hairstyle? Or what to see Defense and Justice would be a real pleasure? I think it would be good to play a Pablo Emilio for define this situation. Pablo Emilio is a card game: four cards are dealt to each player on the table. The idea is that they form a Square -two above and two below. Players can see once the cards. Just once and memorize them. Almost like spying through an ajar door. The two above are unknown: Based on that then we will build our game. The goal is to score the least amount of points possible by swapping cards with the deck. There are wildcards; 7, 8 and 9 allow you to make special movements. And the jack of spades is worth zero. That's important to remember because all the other jacks are worth eleven - in a distraction you can miss this card by changing it with a lower-scoring one- The hands are played fast and everyone has their method. Sometimes they come to complete one or two hands and you're done. Remembering the ones below and without knowing the ones from above we are seeing what to assemble. If we put two or three of the same together, we throw them away rigged. If not, we are methodically changing one for the other looking for something. Pablo Emilio is won when someone sings Pablo Emilio. And whoever has the lowest score wins. Naturally. The important thing in this game is memory, some lights in certain moments and taken chances. We could study the repeal of the name Pablo Emilio or start thinking about the possibility of assembling a low scoring game. We could think about what the other has or how he played his previous hand. But first remember what we have. Kind of that's the key, but I don't know whether to mention it now in this short poem. Contemplate the noise. Comply with chaos even on times of unavoidable crisis. Or with the secret-warm-love watermarks on those photos that are only ours. Blood and silence of dirt streets that lead us away from the pavement. Electricity. Everything is in ebullition. So do you.
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Nov 13, 2022
Nov 13, 2022 at 6:21 AM UTC
pablo emilio
We dream of electric shocks, data, meetings and dirt roads away from the pavement. Sunday, sun people, indiscriminate leisure. Papers, the dog that smiles. This gymnastics makes us better people. We make up words that sound good. poems and fruit salads. who would suspect that is a pompadour a hairstyle? Or what to see Defense and Justice would be a real pleasure? I think it would be good to play a Pablo Emilio for define this situation. Pablo Emilio is a card game: four cards are dealt to each player on the table. The idea is that they form a Square -two above and two below. Players can see once the cards. Just once and memorize them. Almost like spying through an ajar door. The two above are unknown: Based on that then we will build our game. The goal is to score the least amount of points possible by swapping cards with the deck. There are wildcards; 7, 8 and 9 allow you to make special movements. And the jack of spades is worth zero. That's important to remember because all the other jacks are worth eleven - in a distraction you can miss this card by changing it with a lower-scoring one- The hands are played fast and everyone has their method. Sometimes they come to complete one or two hands and you're done. Remembering the ones below and without knowing the ones from above we are seeing what to assemble. If we put two or three of the same together, we throw them away rigged. If not, we are methodically changing one for the other looking for something. Pablo Emilio is won when someone sings Pablo Emilio. And whoever has the lowest score wins. Naturally. The important thing in this game is memory, some lights in certain moments and taken chances. We could study the repeal of the name Pablo Emilio or start thinking about the possibility of assembling a low scoring game. We could think about what the other has or how he played his previous hand. But first remember what we have. Kind of that's the key, but I don't know whether to mention it now in this short poem. Contemplate the noise. Comply with chaos even on times of unavoidable crisis. Or with the secret-warm-love watermarks on those photos that are only ours. Blood and silence of dirt streets that lead us away from the pavement. Electricity. Everything is in ebullition. So do you.
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RUN! JUMP! HIDE! PROVIDE SPORT FOR THE HUNTERS.                                                          Jenny Holzer - Inflamattory Essays job today: quench the gap. neither hiatus nor flesh can venture more than desorganization lack of proper planning and control destroying the well-being of the population fragile skull called lost your keys. build no bridges, ten thousand bricks, mud, destruction. demand attention, be chaos. a forest, disarray, silver bullet heat, fat mess: think no one can reach you. nothing is that instrumentalized not to have your name tattooed. there is no symbol left to express all that evil: reach into the dark. silly face, playful conversations.
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Oct 25, 2022
Oct 25, 2022 at 7:32 PM UTC
run run hide run hide run
imagine rain as make up, now and then i may learn to spell your elements, imagine rain as a handful of dimes, skin, a line. now and then i want to burn this place down. imagine rain as a price, spice, love or logic. imagine rain, one o one, ten sixty, eight and ten elaborate on that: no office can tell for all is well. get into fights on twitter, get obsessed with nonsense, run and remember: where the danger is, also grows the saving power.
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Jul 26, 2022
Jul 26, 2022 at 10:24 PM UTC
the architecture of rain
talking mirrors and blue lights *** beauty hides in gestures, right place time right *** parfume, let go. treasure what you lose. *** a galaxy at ground level leather coat wandering dialogue
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Mar 5, 2022
Mar 5, 2022 at 10:26 AM UTC
wandering dialogue
we won't know some things until they're gone: 1- the air is thicker when 2- the air is thicker when your eyes 3- the air is thicker when your eyes had a few and then 4- the air is thicker when your eyes had a few and then crash into mine. do you fancy some vitel toné in bed? help me write my epitaphs... one for facebook, one for linkedin, "a restless god eating brie and drinking wine the expressionist way" ancient aliens & the word 'persona'. i was raised by jungle animals, tamagotchis with mean eyes and all my friends. now that's gone. do you think poetry is gonna buy someone a house? start falling apart work riot your secrets kiss and kiss whisper your way out.
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Mar 4, 2022
Mar 4, 2022 at 2:57 PM UTC
object voyage
despised love struck amazonian charcoal eating poems: writing asleep getting back from a party from nowhere to nowhere. cool blue speedometer for a fast track racing machine called 'My Heart in two'. get rid of the missiles, we're surrendering: goodbye grab my hand stab my thigh kiss me or dance me sharp corners and the best of my days: ice skating on winter's wet dreams soaked in whisky or petrol i'm kind of spooky right now but i love you as my teeth claw my flesh blood black like the ears of the night. urgent hours begin to bud; bubble bath and the trace of a marker like a glowing lipstick between the endlessness of space and the sacred nothing.
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Mar 4, 2022
Mar 4, 2022 at 2:56 PM UTC
spooky
down a dirt road at midnight with our headlights off light pink mangroves and flashing forward black razors; dive back to creamy moonlight creepy gold ringed hand channeling a noice: ball of soil falling to the floor; the voice of a secret languaje the voice of a silent languaje un lenguaje secreto a process to name Fear; beauty untamed still ill purpled nodding dusk it's a dream or stolen from a dream; handled spotlight and body's wildlife; buck knife buck knife buck knife rain-fed meat eating plant inside the head behind the eyes rooting moments on blood lagoons; drive towards neon fantasy washing machine a game called 'destroy everything you love' balm of late rolling down just a speck, landscapes a few remain
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Dec 3, 2021
Dec 3, 2021 at 7:47 PM UTC
stolen from a dream