My girlfriend appeared trembling in a bookstore
She showed me lonely street papers and slashed whores
She gave me lovely stones and seashells
An old engraving of untied horses
My girlfriend was on her way from the sun and looked like a gypsy
She told strange stories about twin souls
My girlfriend had a blue dress
She fell in love with me and my sandals
My girlfriend would read Boris Vian
She took a shower bleeding and gave me a body that smelled like nothing
I fell in love with my girlfriend
I braided my hair and took her to the movies
My girlfriend had an ugly blonde child
We would inhabit the city of fog or beyond the seas
My girlfriend became my girlfriend
My girlfriend pashira and ficus colony of herbs graft of flower-eating doves
I loved my girlfriend
My broke girlfriend sold earrings in the markets
She would bring me mandarins when I was in solitary confinement
She would undress in front of bored old men
I was my girlfriend
She adored Fabio and had a balcony to jump from
And it’s just that my sad girlfriend looked like a desolate Maga
My girlfriend was a star
I would have died without my girlfriend
One day my girlfriend said we were looking like open wounds under the sky
That she’d take up the lab books again
That she’d stop sleeping at the foot of the bridge
I didn’t pay attention to my girlfriend
I let her mix Pelusa rock and biology texts
Víctor’s punctual visits and kitchen habits
Johnny’s accurate punches
And it’s just that my girlfriend didn’t wanna eat flowers any more
So then I thought about giving her what she deserves
I’d take her to the mountain top
I’d bathe her in the trail’s creek
Then I’d bombard her with bougainvillea petals from above
I’d spray her with French perfumes
And knowing she was in ecstasy I’d cover her with baby poo
So she wouldn’t stop being my girlfriend
So she wouldn’t get sick of eating flowers
And it’s just that sometimes I don’t feel like being my girlfriend’s boyfriend
Sometimes I don’t feel like being anyone’s boyfriend
But yesterday I saw my girlfriend
She had ripped shoes and she gave me a glass pearl
We looked at a strange dress that cost as much as two hundred cigarette boxes
We talked about banquet fruits with bread and jelly
Because you really start to get sick of eating flowers
But I told my girlfriend that we’d always eat flowers
And I understood my girlfriend
And my girlfriend understood me
But sometimes I worry about my girlfriend
Because my furious girlfriend is capable of hoisting the boy and hitting him like a piñata
She’d shoot her mom on a holiday
She’d blow up the lab with sodium
Because my girlfriend is a beast
She’s a chill she’s a star
And I love my girlfriend
And I know she’ll appear on the avenue singing
She’ll scream absurdities only I understand
She’ll put a knife to my belly button
She’ll say: “Man, take off your pants”
Because my girlfriend’s my girlfriend
Because I know my girlfriend
My eternal girlfriend my girlfriend Ítala
My crazy girlfriend
Ganja plant
And spring.



Better days are ahead. The days of the child musicians in tune with the parks. The days of the orbiting earth and other meetings like kisses. I say better days are ahead. Days with cigars and beautiful women. Days of brides like flowers. Better days will come. Days without hate or war. Days of moon and sun. The days fiery red candles will come for dinner. Happy days are coming. Seas and friends will come. The sunrays speak of the day. I mean the day of the next big star. They say better days are ahead. The dream day will come. The days of marvel are to come. Legitimate police. Days bright as fire that sound like thunder. Days of angels and guitars. Days of metal trumpets. Better days are ahead. Do not be discouraged. The days of paid debts and banquets of grapes will come. The days like circuses will come. The tamed lions and elephants and hyenas will come. The days of the peaceful jungle will come. A long trip of days like song. The vast Nile now a furrow. The days of liquid flames, of flying men, of galaxies, of women who will come as the night.

                                                                                                                                                                                   Translated by Anne Boyer



I’ve stopped under the bridge
I haven’t been able to continue
The rain is falling
And I imagine your arrival
You say:
Guapo, this umbrella’s for both of us
Follow me to where the world ends”
So I answer:
“Nidia, I’ve got sixty bolívares in my pocket
We can drink beer, buy cigarettes
Later on doesn’t matter”
And off we go
I tell you, “Let the rain soak our hair
I love you just the same without an umbrella”
And you give me two of your kisses
So I’m not sure if you want me to kiss you deeply
Or if you’ll take off running
Under May showers
Our newborn springtime
Mine and yours
Because you should know
Dad has gone off
And I don’t wanna stay home with mom
I wanna be less alone
I wanna be with you
And the nights are really cold
And all the other girls I know are really mean
And you’re so hippie
And the outline of your tits entertains me
All this rushed through my head under the bridge
While it stopped raining and you didn’t arrive
So I’ve crossed the University
I’ve taken pen and paper from Alis and Roberto
And I’ve gone to a bar
To write this down for you
Thinking I’ll read it to you tonight over the phone.



My entire Oeuvre is against the police
If I write a Love poem it’s against the police
And if I sing the nakedness of bodies I sing against the police
And if I make this Earth a metaphor I make a metaphor against the police
If I speak wildly in my poems I speak against the police
And if I manage to create a poem it’s against the police
I haven’t written a single word, a verse, a stanza that isn’t against the police
All my prose is against the police
My entire Oeuvre
Including this poem
My whole Oeuvre
Is against the police.