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TIMELESS JOURNEY TO MOROCCO III. Djemaa El Fna

lost

As a side note,
vibrant blue, which seeks a hidden minaret


trying to raise the sound of the afternoon and made it eternal. Confused

the voice of the muezzin
this desire to be anyone
blinded by the beauty of bodies, then look sensitive

that hurts and kills me. Want


die in this moment of sweet nothings,
dissolved in the human flow. Going with the air


live in this place like a bloody
lung.

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TRIP TO MOROCCO II. Fes tanneries BY TRAVEL TO MOROCCO I.


(District of tanners. Fez)

I still smell a trace,
dunno,
through the Medina of Fez, and a cloudy wind

just let me see.
In
my blindness I meet my gaze fixed while
in the empty eyes of a fish. Scrutinizing
to glimpse
in that clump of narrow streets of the tanneries
soul
like a whirlpool,
being.
Because the world is mud, manure

like that which softens the skin.

General Petraeus Bronze Star

70 x 40

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Seizure Getting More Frequent

(Todra Gorge)

Atlas Mountains lie in its passing

mineral resembling ecstatic holy men, huddled in their marabout
.
rambling through fast flowing spirit
following water courses. There
chanting the air, on the cliffs, and there is a murmur
branches
tease us and the wind leaves its mark
calligraphic
voice on land lines.

Sarees For Large Women

UP DEBRIS NEW ATLAS OF THE SLINKY

I follow the path to bring here to this imaginary network, this virtuality, one day sneak letter appeared in loose papers in a university magazine. From that gloss with such fervor and rescue work today would edit a few lines to some extent forgotten that they were near me:

DEEP SEA

To go on a desire to delay death,
hide the eyes, extend a path
besieged sources?
Perhaps the desire is none other than death, rodeo
talkative or silent corner,
bluff or cliff, stake
that removes silt,
hate that one teaspoon diluted.
murmur, yes, that dark sea winnows
stares back at us or smile,
all of ours, a trace of tenderness.


Tell me who, distant sea, covered with ash curls
your bellows, your constantly ringing, who extends your silhouette
animal
exhausted.
're saying, perhaps your sign is not but point
water
liquid light, angry foam.


But hold and your mill, atrocious desire
not roll over your sounds, even echo,
because the sea did not encourage your prayer.
Look at his back, folded
himself in love
dump sky is a mirror and
always, always
beyond.

(Sagunto, 1987)





Ballo in Maschera


Friends, you who both praise you my faithfulness
summoned to a banquet of ashes
there in the eternal ocean, where a mature oak shade
centuries.
drink of the luxury bowls
wine bitter envy, black bile
of friendship betrayed. There
lackeys pick your lips
the gloomy slime of the astonishment and a pebble travel
your cheek.
Can there be such hatred, you may ask-
prisoner in a smile of silver? Silence
your grief and pray, pray
while still predicts the moonlight gray
and feel pity for a counterfeit coin. That
hundred dogs show you my dark heart
gangrene, because even though your love tearing their tissues
looking diamond
only scorpion
shackle the circle and the hand that you can find curtailed
me.
Friends, I will summon the grim libation
because lying
has only a sign of death, a fate
disclosed.

(Sagunto, 1987)