the scalpel - vengeful
when he opened the brain
the poet James
in the morgue of Hospice
in the summer of 1971?
What can be
in meticulous dissection
the brain of a poet?
The remains of a rose,
fragments of an angel wing
fallen
generating some tears
or
of a star or bird
glimpsed in lunar gravity?
Or, perhaps, the scheduled destruction
of the shocks,
supplied to the "other"
and sorrow of a cartel
a breeze ranging
coming from
tied to the big toe of one foot
says: James Fijman,
72. And I add:
whom God or an angel messenger
touched, as they said,
in a day set
to its openness.
Contact: santinebao@gesell.com.ar
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