FUSIONED - DIRECTED - WRITTEN AND CORRESPONDED BY: MENASSA 2001
DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPEAK BUT WE DO IT IN SEVERAL LANGUAGES
GRIS, IS A PRODUCT
INDIO GRIS Nº 69
TO BECOME 61 WHEN WAR BURSTS OUT
I listened to my world,
kill, to kill,
go by air;
saw a mother freezing
a woman was dying
I saw reptiles dying
my mother died
air will live
the open air, there will be
the trenches, death
school, the child
be careful about the sky in general,
be careful about the hurricane-like wind
any small place
is why we look
whole world dying
the craft of being a poet
in the mists of the tedious everyday life,
I go through life
in the powerful noises of the machine,
we make love, She reproaches
in the subtle entanglement of power,
she finds me in that dilemma,
the end, moderation was a way of thinking of living 200 years.
problem wasn't that the organs or the soul couldn't stand it. What
really happened was that there was no money or that nobody wanted
to spend their money in living 200 years.
money is available, the organs will stand and the soul will be free.
saw her walking to me tilted, bending ostentatiously on her right side. She
shuffled her feet as if they weighed on her or as if wanting to show an extreme
in her couldn't go on any longer and she would say it to me that way. Anyway I
doubted between calling a doctor or telling her to tumble down on the couch.
without taking her coat off or leaving her handbag, tumbled down and said to me:
The solution for what is happening to me is in your hands. My vertebras
are rotten for lack of warmth.
she remained silent and so did I. When we said good-bye she told me she felt
I must admit not to understand what happens to me.
sort of making real the joke about letting yourself be guided by a
madwoman who is blinded by jealousy, as well.
Professor walks nervously from one side of the hall to the other,
his gaze, he goes over the body of all the dancers without finding what he
was looking for:
pair of glasses, a light so that his beloved could see the colours.
blinded by her own loves in Buenos Aires, and blinded by jealousy because
of the relations the Professor might have in arriving in Madrid.
blinded, she had to decide in a few days if she would accompany the
Professor in his return to Madrid or if she stayed and lived in Buenos
Professor thought that she, in that altered state due to passions of all
kinds, couldn't decide nothing right or possible, but he couldn't do
anything but accompany her blindly, precisely her who suffered from a
We'll end up going to hell.
Professor said to himself, while he craved for making love to her and to
his wife, before leaving Buenos Aires.
A pussy's hair pulls more than a hundred yokes of oxen - the
right away he thought that the Master would tell him:
And what about two hairs, one from each pussy.
the Professor felt a sort of relief and it didn't look so delirious
anymore to live in Buenos Aires.
tell you the truth I feel a little moved. Something trembles in me.
wants to be born for me, and I don't let it.
I should rest a little, tonight I want to go dancing.
suffer all night, let's see how everybody fucks her while I remain at
ease, as if nothing were going on.
tomorrow, I will slap her two or three times.
finally achieved it, she beat about the bush for some time and then made
me go home and went dancing with the rest.
I'll tell she's a whore and that will excite her.
write, she reads and the little whore dances and dances for others.
go ahead with everything: my work, my writing and then, fucking, but with
one, with two, with three women as a maximum, and, tranquilly, fucking,
one or two shots everyday and some pussy sucking and two or three fingers
in the ass and kisses and great speeches at any time of the day and some
money to stop time.
everything is ephemeral. Pleasure in her lasts very little and no man
it, leads her not to move from my side, in spite of her jealousy.
she tortures me to paroxysm.
ties me to a chair and surrounds me with beautiful women that desire her.
And when I look at one of them, she gives two kicks in my balls and bites
my lips and then starts shouting:
Now you can fuck her, now you can fuck her.
In such circumstances, my dick doesn't get hard not even disguised
touch her anymore
(to be continued in the next issue)
feel as if I were lost in a desert, eagerly searching for what can't be
found in a desert.
everybody free and no one will have anything, because everything will
belong to freedom, to poetry.
nerve twisting itself in bends.
never had anything,
by my own delirium
I saw a human being at a distance,
the beginning I would feel nauseous,