Jenny Holzer and I

I found her on a bench in Venice. This one, I think.  I touched the marble and read these words twice. And I knew somebody, somewhere, had thought about my vital situation in that right moment and had carved every letter. I WAS the particular person ALL THAT was written for. I was anyone. I’ve been trying… trying to cut …

Para Airyn

Hear the cry of the strings Wait for the echoes time Smell the children’s breath Hear the pulse of the drums and sincronize. Follow with us the swallow trail. Follow with us. Condors meet nightingales tonight. Do I believe in this? They shall survive me. My poetry is not soft enough, just woeful, twisted, lost in space and time – …

Skin

Cloth won’t save you this time, so let it glide along your Great Wall and reveal your true nature. You, malleable reptile, can’t stop it from exhaling your second breath (salty, savoury, silent), shuddering at their touch. So why bother resisting? Just let it grow, thicker and older, pathetically attached to the surface, a million soundless martyrs born to turn …

Project NZ21

A pesar de los problemas logísticos ya me informan de que ha llegado entero (tarde, pero entero), así que qué menos que dejar aquí una muestra sosa bidimensional. Por dejar constancia escrita más que nada: ya está donde tenía que estar. El momento es sólo la excusa. Happy birthday to NZ. Whether it’s night time who croons its sweetest breezy …