did the entire city rush to the railings of the boardwalk.

was running through the streets and deserted buildings

the thick moss from my temples.

where the bitter tropics could be found.

I, poet without arms, lost

with the empty women, with hot wax children,

I protect myself with this look

and filtering a longing for lighthtｔps://rｅaｄ•99cｓｗ.ｃoｍ into subterranean tunnels.

and leaving tiny skulls of pigeons in the corners

and summoning the demon of bread through the skys clean-swept hills

who serve platters of salt beneath harps of saliva.

The fat lady came out first,

tearing out roots and moistening drumskins.

Theres no other way, my son, rｅad•99ｃｓｗ.ｃomvomit! Theres no other way.

The look on my face was mine, but now isnt me,

that flows from waves where no dawn would go,

The fat lady went first

pushing it into our throat.

with no effusive horse to shear

and stirring up the furies of the last centuries feasts

and launching incredible ships

nor the vomit of cats that i九-九-藏-書nadvertently swallowed frogs,

but the dead who scratch with clay hands

The fat lady, the moons antagonist,

through the anemones of the piers.

The fat lady came first

who were begging the moon for protection.

Its not the vomit of hussars on the breasts of their whores,

on flint gates where clouds and desserts decay.

There were murmuring from the jungle of vomit

the dead, pheasants and apples of another era,

with fermented trees and tireless waiters

in the vomiting multitude,

who turns dying octopuses inside out.

and the sorrow of the kitchens buried in sand,

The gra九-九-藏-書veyards, yes the graveyards

The fat lady

among a few little girls of blood

Only when a flag went up and the first dogs arrived

Who could imagine my sadness?

the naked look on my face, trembling for alcohol

and the crowds kept looking for pharmacies

Vomit was delicately shaking its drums

with the crowds from the ships, taverns, and parks.