the sordid creature enters
with her cheeks made up, with outlined eyes, with the best of the clothes she could find on the balance table of a
American fair, they did not imagine that in that talk of
café were closely watched by the sordid creature,
that she smoked watching them
concocting trips, pleasures, letters that would never reach their destination,
corpses that would rise from their mud holes
to hug in the rain, they just talked about the
chaos of the world, of the price of things, of the tenderness that
they had exploded in their hands like fireworks,
Incoherent, the sordid creature slipped into his teeth,
the hours passed and they smiled for others,
spoke for others, can you bear the inertia of
a freight train less than a meter from the tracks? did you know
In former Indochina was the Day of Silence celebrated? everything
this and more, carbuncles, vultures, chinchillas,
stainless steel, suddenly everything could be part of
the axiology of doubt, the obituary of fear, and they said
then, by that time the sordid creature was drunk,
that it would be a bad idea to kiss and they kissed,
the gigantic shadows of ancient armies passed beneath them with their smells of blood and grave,
a bad idea to go together through those streets
surrounded by buildings without a soul, by corridors without lights,
all that evidence amputated injuries at the same time
without intuiting they intuited, behind every word there is a felony,
then they smashed all signs and kept the felonies,
that it would be a bad idea to say love and they said it,
from the corners of the brain came crabs screeching
but neither of them paid the slightest importance to them.