Dedicated to: Carmen Sánchez Guillén. (guanareña poetess)
Sometimes I sink
in the afternoon.
In the heat of a sunny town.
Sometimes I act.
People laugh,
look.
Wait till one of us raises his arm,
but only moon and sun many times.
Maybe,
drown me in their laughter.
The noise behind my back
spreads
for my treasures.
Calm is a subterfuge,
a sorcery case.
My wife talks about random mistakes.
with words you don't play with,
less,
if the wind holds sway and betrayal.
Ah! This last word is the dagger.
that penetrates the calm.
My mother hides the treasure of misery,
plays at being happy.
I, the good-for-nothing
I've learned to play.
.
Sometimes bitter,
unmask smiles.
Have my drink,
at the bar the look.
Leave it there
they'll pick her up with the night owl,
buried in some bystander's abyss.
No time for apologies,
have my drink.
He's carrying the crime drunk,
can taste like knives to you.
Words are also broken,
don't plaster the moment.
There's the street,
the
f
a
l
l,
so they'll know,
the bones cry,
the skin...
It's life,
don't rush the drink.