We will have to journey through the eyes of idiots,

freeze you from behind the trees.

and to wait in ambush for a silence that has no

arches and

open country where the docile cobras, coiled like wire, hiss,

Everything is shatter in the tepid faucets

of a terrible silent fountain.

obscure names, saliva, and chrome radios were still crying.

dreaming of the open beaks of dying brｅａｄ.９9csw•comirds,

Facades of urine, of smoke, anemones, rubber gloves.

and so that fire will consume those crowds still able to piss around a moan

in the canyons that resist

Oh, crowds! Loose women! Soldiers!

The men kept to themselves:

beneath silence with a thousand ears

to frighten the rich behind their magnifying glasses-

a recently flattened toad,

The boy on the sch九_九_藏_書ooner was crying and hearts were breaking

nor for those shadowy people who stumble on the curbs.

the sharp parasol that punctures

The Moon! The police. The foghorns of the ocean liners!

they were waiting for the swiftness of the last cyclists.

It doesnt matter if the boy grows silent when stuck with the last pin,

that spread its legs on the terraces.

and a ball of yarn lohttps://read.99csw.comoks anxiously in the grass for unrealized longitude.

Its useless to look for the bend

The women kept to themselves:

or if the breeze is defeated in cupped cotton flowers,

they were expecting the death of a boy on a Japanese schooner.

and because of the sky blue ground of black footprints,

because there is a world of death whose perpetual sailors will appear in the

torn cread.99csw.comlothes, no shells, and no tears,

or on the crystals in which each inimitable wave is understood.

because even the tiny banquet of a spider

Everything is shattered in the night

landscapes full of graves that yield the freshest apples,

where night loses its way

is enough to upset the entire equilibriread.99csw.comum of the sky.

and tiny mouths of water

The countryside bites its own tail in order to gather a bunch of roots

in anguish for the witness and vigilance of all things,

the violent attack on the moon.

There is no cure for the moaning from a Japanese schooner,

so that uncontrollable light will arrive

the odor of a single corpse from the double source of lily and rat-

They all kept to themselves-