half approached me and asked me a hippie papelillo not use Mr, sorry. I am a journal of substances. The rockers I smile because I have returned to old age, to meddle with the guitar. There is always a poet with glasses and a beard of fluff, leaning on the darkest corner of the bar. We looked hard, as you look at the gangster film.
To him I am a fucking asshole assimilated by the system, and I observed I do not look the same, with twenty years younger, and feel a mix of solidarity and perhaps jealous because he himself could write this book that moves you, that you already know you do not have the strength to start.
In one corner a group sings a classic Stones and ass of the world seems cleaner for a moment. A small group of rich kids with their barking crocodiles caste symbols from her breasts well fed, they dance to the Rolling Stones, like the Dynamic Duo. We looked at my partner and me and smiled.
service at the door of two women kissing, hawking and one of them nights molehills old mate greets me with her free hand, the other hides joyful mystery his girlfriend.
pay attention to that bitter drink, which always sees me and hugs me, which I promised a book, song or the poem. There is a beautiful nocturnal noise and smoke, live music and memories just starting in the evening. We walked stored
us, then, because Carmina and Ancel have invited us to the party. Those who do not want to come, or know anything about us, seem to hold grudges. As a former addict smokers, including former communist militant who perseveres. But we laugh, rock and roll and grace. Do not stop the music or the mojito with toast every Friday we strive to exorcise the sadness.
To him I am a fucking asshole assimilated by the system, and I observed I do not look the same, with twenty years younger, and feel a mix of solidarity and perhaps jealous because he himself could write this book that moves you, that you already know you do not have the strength to start.
In one corner a group sings a classic Stones and ass of the world seems cleaner for a moment. A small group of rich kids with their barking crocodiles caste symbols from her breasts well fed, they dance to the Rolling Stones, like the Dynamic Duo. We looked at my partner and me and smiled.
service at the door of two women kissing, hawking and one of them nights molehills old mate greets me with her free hand, the other hides joyful mystery his girlfriend.
pay attention to that bitter drink, which always sees me and hugs me, which I promised a book, song or the poem. There is a beautiful nocturnal noise and smoke, live music and memories just starting in the evening. We walked stored
us, then, because Carmina and Ancel have invited us to the party. Those who do not want to come, or know anything about us, seem to hold grudges. As a former addict smokers, including former communist militant who perseveres. But we laugh, rock and roll and grace. Do not stop the music or the mojito with toast every Friday we strive to exorcise the sadness.
"My anxieties complete"
J. Antonio Gallardo, November 4, 2006
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