It looks bad
It looks bad that the days ahead, the empty ice that stumbles in our face When we walk the streets, waiting for the hungry dogs that we abandoned in the suburbs of thoughts, They come to chew the orbits of our eyes so we don’t see The time that has passed since we woke up. And since the night began, she also began to walk into the womb of our ruined and less noisy houses. It looks bad because it always does, because people don’t just do this They don’t simply sleep on the parapet of life With the various fractures exposed to boredom and a sharp tenderness of the bodies of others to burn slowly as a bath of sweat, imagination. “Please don’t just sit waiting for the iron sun to plunge their senses.” a sun that would heat so hard that it would blast the nerves of the pictures you take to all those magazines that just look bad and newspapers that also look so bad because it seems bad to dilute affections with a mud of numbers a mass of statistics, a m...