I Accidentally Ate Expired Chicken Broth

writes on a veranda

writes on a veranda

for words and idioms

terms

Listening melancholy notes of a musician

crazy

And the moon staring at me

Tarnished and white

A little twisted and senseless

I hung a banner on the railing

of my summer veranda

is not even in my country I

I own a country?

A sun that rises

Extraordinary contrast

On this night of full moon

And I continue to write

Seeking expressions rhythms

As an ad

on a provincial newspaper

that nobody

Damned It responds

faces crowding me in the head

Along with the usual items

What I do not want to cure

crowded metropolitan

Deserts red and green

Letters are masks dreams

Everything is hidden folds

of words evolve

They change grow

We are simple or complex

spoken or unspoken

Find and never look

E I still blaterale

traded my identical

swoon in a poem

slide

Watching the moon and three candles

ranging dying

And I do not traces remain

If not these words

What I have not found yet

Canadian friends

This is my

compartment Monument

Funebre.