She was...The wicked Lady
dresssed in black
red blood underneath
and the cold winter bellow.

She looked dead, but she was not
to grieve and sorrow was her lot.

No hates to consum
if so, worms will eat them all.

She was  the random Lady
used before for a Puppet Master
strings broken nowdays
danced to the tune
of those numble fingers
some years ago.

Satin black clothes
to hide the joints and blood
today is the Birthday Rose.

Foto Rochi Nóvoa na casa museo de Dylam Tomas

Living with you is like living alone

I can´t see you

I can´t hear you

I can´t reach youLiving with you is like being in a prison
It´s stifling
I´m living alone
with you.

Jan Price

Eles/ Nós

Xogo coas palabras

ordeno,mexo,invento

substitúo pronomes por nomes

e fáloche sempre

a ti que sofres e a ti que feres.

Ogallá puidera parar as balas

apagar o farol , atrapar un raio de luz pura

 para regalarcho.

Miolo durmido, cerebro inexistente

impasible á dó, testemuña directa.

cómplice de asasinos, violadores e estafadores.

Escribirei o poema da muller allea

o  conto para a nena triste

que ninguén recoñece nos  escombros

 a balada do soldado  ese ninguén cheo de dúbidas

unha carta sen data , para quen manda.

Éter, queres éter?

bailemos a cantiga das recapitulacións

para saber dende cando somos só dous

nós un, e os outros  dous.