domingo, 27 de julio de 2014



Throwing my loaded dice
Searching for the little edelweiss
Everybody can intuit
Blooms in the rain wrapped misty hills
You can see far way outside
From the wounds the alleys plow through
The city’s people’s nests crowded hills

During Sundays mornings
Obscured by more than alcoholic hangovers
Talking with kids wearing for the first time
Their first gun of second hand
Eager to demonstrate they’re now men
That vain excess that endlessly repeats itself
Waiting for an undeserved miracle before death

To Edgar
VABM July 27, 2014

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