Can you?

Can you remember who you were, 

before the world told you 

who you should be?

Trapped.

"Don't undress my love 

 you might find a mannequin;

 don't undress the mannequin

 you might find

 my love."

Flower.

“I’ve had so many knives stuck into me,

when they hand me a flower

I can’t quite make out what it is...

...It takes time.”

Comunicación.

—Nunca creí en las discusiones. No hay nada que discutir.
—Estás equivocado, deberías tratar de comunicarte.
—Comunicar es una palabra abusada, como amor.
—¿Pero no creés que dos personas puedan amar?
—No si tratan de comunicarse.
—Estás hablando como un boludo.
—Estamos discutiendo.

Bluebird

There's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
There's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

There's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up? 
you want to screw up the
works? 
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe? 
There's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
Then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you? 

Once in a while

It is only

once in a while

that you see

someone whose

electricity

and prescence

matches yours

at that

moment

and then

usually it's

a stranger.

it was 3 or 4

years ago

i was walking on

Sunset Blvd

toward Vermont

when

a block away

i noticed a

figure moving

toward me.

there was something

in her carriage

and in her walk

which

attracted

me.

as we came

closer

the intensity

increased.

suddenly

i knew her

entire history:

she had lived

all her life

with men

who had never really

known her.

as she approached

i became almost

dizzy.

i could hear her

footsteps as

she approached.

i looked into

her face.

she was as

beautiful

as i had

imagined she

would be.

as we passed

our eyes fucked

and loved and

sang to each

other

and then

she moved

past me.

i walked on

not looking

back.

then

when i looked

back

she was

gone.

what is one

to do

in a world

where almost everything

worth having

or doing

is

impossible?

I went into

a coffee shop

and decided that

if i ever saw

her again somehow,

I'd say

"listen, please

i just must

speak to

you..."

I never saw her

again

I never will.

the iron in our

society silences

a man's

heart

and when you

silence a man's

heart

you leave him

finally with only

a cock.

Como un reloj.

(...) Y también está, por supuesto la locura y el terror de saber que alguna parte de vos es como un reloj al que no puede dársele cuerda otra vez, una vez que se para.

Cuánta verdad.

“La fe está bien para los que la tienen. Mientras no me la tiren por la cabeza. Tengo más fe en mi plomero que en el ser eterno. Los plomeros hacen un buen trabajo. Dejan que la mierda fluya”. 

I will remember

“I will remember the kisses 

our lips raw with love 

and how you gave me 

everything you had 

and how I 

offered you what was left of 

me, 

and I will remember your small room 

the feel of you 

the light in the window 

your records 

your books 

our morning coffee 

our noons our nights 

our bodies spilled together 

sleeping 

the tiny flowing currents 

immediate and forever 

your leg my leg 

your arm my arm 

your smile and the warmth 

of you 

who made me laugh 

again.” 

Charles Bukowski