Colectivos

Arranca de una vez
hijo de puta
ya se termino
el humo camina la calle seca

los esqueletos se cubren de carne
el fluido del barro encuentra
en un molde su forma

enfermedad terminal
grita el gran constructor
y por favor
que sea rapido

cenizas nerviosas comeran las carpas
mezcladas con azucar y harina
comeran los peces pequeños

los vecinos reparan sus nidos
con ruedas metalicas
luego pasaran aviones
de aqui para alla
y estos tentaculos tienen la fortaleza
transparente de medusa
contruyendo muros
con personas
de cartapesta

Batieron las cartas neuronales
ayer
y salio una mala mano
hora de mentir
bien
bien

Bueno.



***

Elsewhere I said that living organisms are bouquets or blades
of time, that they are exchangers of time. That life, certainly, is nothing
but time, but that this proposition is not simple. And that we know
three kinds of time, so different that they can be said to be contradic­
tory: the reversible one, datable by the long equilibria of the world, and
the two irreversible ones, those of entropy and of Darwinian evolution.
The first one protects us and defines our niche ; the second makes us die
a more or less lasting death, and the last perpetuates us, placing hope in
the genius of our daughters and the beauty of our sons. Life would be
the intertwining of these three separable chronies. * I leave a free piece
floating around, the inconsolable hope in the transparency of the work
we leave to posterity. Serres