ESTRAGON: Let's go.
VLADIMIR: We can't.
ESTRAGON: Why not?
VLADIMIR: We're waiting for Godot.

Samuel Beckett
Waiting for Godot

viernes, 26 de agosto de 2011

the edge

dry eggplants haunt me night & day

dawn & dusk
fog & rains
me, the others
but not me

or maybe it's just the way i look at myself
but it sucks, anyway
long nights are running behind me, right under my eyes
i can draw light, but i'm unable to give it out anymore

three branches, three and not four, nor two
neither seventeen
and i'm coming back to the forest
where it rains no more
where light decided to quit and beg in the streets

smiles are so lacking in faith
and hope is so lacking in smiles...

it's raining gin tonic in the land of the teetotal
nails in the country of magnets
fog is made of staples here,
you can learn to live with it
or just go back to your sweet dreams again

it's true i avoided the abyss
but can't help it
i get horny walking blindfolded on the edge

“Agonía, agonía, sueño, fermento y sueño. Éste es el mundo, amigo, agonía, agonía.”
 Federico García Lorca

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