I went thru the mechanical
i slave the master
options to turn thee tables
miniscule details
lovely apple

Que se explica si el se llama Bowie:
corazones de japon,
corazones de america,
gente importante,
solos los hombres,
solas las miujeres,
solito el camgbio el mundo,

solito el cambio,
su imagen
cambio su estilo de manejar su musica,

fue heraclito,
fue hombre,
fue alien,

las manos de exageradas visiones,
los dedos libros de Bolaño,
de Borges,
de Cortazar,

la imagen de su visage,
fue Paris,
fue Russia,
fue Japon…

fue Bowie,

la la la la lo

Sincerely David,

lovely apparition for the man in me,

lovely decadence of the eagerly,
lovely poem lovely,
Kissinger and the dearly,

how often does one remember
how often of the off
off the membrane of the soft
off the remembrance of thy spine

love your poems and the manly woman

women are they eager of Shakespeare?

La interminable vision de un buen futuro me alimenta mi sol. Mis manos ramas crecen para alcanzar más bellas palabras que aún no eh leído.

Walking in the dark like he often did so gracefully attaching himself to the books of his library like the grass to the damp earth. His mistakes of the day agitated him slightly he had himself a meal and the reddest wine he could smell, his hands were mist from the hotness of the room, he waited for his cat to appear out of thin air, an apparition of the mind. Grabbing his almost finished bottle, he stepped into the middle of the kitchen looking at the window he felt something move then twitched his eyes to the floor owl manuvering them he saw albert his Abby cat, he seemed tired awakened dizzinly from a long eternal nap, staring at him asking for food without words. He felt his heart broken everytime albert gave him that stare. How can a cat be so mystical he asked but did not get a response from the shadows of the room or the cat either. He was a writer and needed his space to stretch the mind and inhale air exhaling the words into the page, that made him breath better, words of silence teaching the readers of new ages. His wife had died years ago in the war of love against a nasty disease. He loved her but in his separated way, touching her but not really there. The day was Tuesday and the meeting of his writer friends was tomorrow he had to get something down by the morning. To his adored cat a sphinx on the deserted table and his manuscript layed, both object half touched by the shadows and the afternoon light. Where did she to I wonder speaking in his lowered voice, she must have agh forget it Walt you think to much, so he made the efort and moved closer to the machine that allowed him to write his words in silence just the pressing of the keys spokes and he liked it felt like home.

se dice en el algebra, 2 por 3 equals none, so often is perceived that one must lose your head to the numbers given, so.

so mistake the one that doesnt worship then; so tune to the old tune inside your head

werent you the often mistoke painting

cerrando el paso al cantar de la makina

regresaran las piramides a otra civilizacion en pleno crecimiento

los lobos se comeran a la cabra en el canto

Orale a **** mago
el orale del otro beban
sabe a mierda
huele a sabana
que se acerque el mas duro
no se puede con risitas
gira y pega

Dimos dioses entre locutorios de am, desde el ombre de plata y oro, te rame el grito, el poema perdido entre el horizonte de tu mente, escrito por Homero el ciego, y quien arresta a quien cuando camino de todos lados, possibles mundos de interlocking chambering hours, was the bottom of your life textured, sur.