In penury, the advances lift me up
and sink me.
I am miserable when I receive handouts
to get from home to work
I can feel in the skin of L M
with the fear that food and medicine will lack,
that the transportation crisis will never improve, doomed to be
(in any scene)
a motionless pilgrim forever.
I must call out to Lezama, besiege him,
to ask for the opportunities he rejected
to resurface in my path,
without a resume, without caring about the days
that tear away the safety
and endow me with hallucinations.
I only see the insistent restraint
that I cannot mention.
YOU ARE READING
When I close my door
PoetryI dedicate this work to all the friends who are left in the heart. To all those who love me. In When I close my door, a social interest and a renunciation for the sake of communication is explicit, the subject destroys his exterior, recomposes himse...
