"A book must be built as a watch and sold as a sausage." Oliverio Girondo
CAN GATHER HANDS
People say
Powder,
Sidereal
Funeral,
and remains quiet,
happy
satisfied.
But listen that cricket,
that blade of night,
crazy life.
Now
is when he sings
now and not tomorrow
Right now.
here.
to our side ...
like I could not sing elsewhere.
Understand?
Me neither.
I do not understand anything.
not only your hands
are a miracle.
A stumble, a forgetting,
y acaso fueras mosca,
lechuga, cocodrilo.
Y después... esa estrella.
No preguntes.
¡Misterio!
El silencio.
Tu pelo.
Y el fervor,
acquiescence
the entire universe,
to achieve your pores,
the nettle, that stone.
can join hands.
amputate braids.
meantime I'll
three rounds of ram
Girondo Oliverio.
Dichotomy bloodless
my hand always comes later another hand mixing
mine and form a hand.
When I sit down I notice that my body feels
in another body
just sit where I sit.
And at the very moment
entering a house,
discover that he was before he arrived.
That is, they may not attend my funeral,
and while I watered platitudes,
and I am in the grave, dressed in skeleton
, yawning
topics and feigned weeping.
Oliverio Girondo
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