I’ve spent my weekend watching

Latin American art cinema

At my house on Nostrand, with crossing street

Named after the father of American cavalry.

¡Oh lord, I ran out of words!,

When I’ve been gone in pitch perfect


Hours never ended like illusions breathtaking

Black evenings, grey dawns, white midafternoons

And non-stop music—

Time to take a naked run outside

Infinite the finite, undying the death,

Unending the end, immortalizing the mortal,

Endless end in the rain.


Death is a wall hanging self portray,

A chimeric sarcasm

Created by the table of elements.

Death is a wristwatch that doesn’t tell time

And doesn’t need batteries.

Never ever aging in soul,







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