AROUND THE PLATE IN 114 WORDS

We love the words because they give us lanscape
and we daily listen to voices
that turn us into cloaca
for the speech.

We speak, we travel through ourselves,
we get old ourselves
and the man
-outside drop- shoots forth
in ligth speed flights
over the plates´cosmos
and into the cups´deepness.

We unword ourselves with the lenguage
that came over us
like the spurt of a waterfall
and without it
new trips proyect
but in mesopotamic truces.

We live so alone within the man chronology
that it builds and then destroys
its own steps
and its history so round

like the earth and the plates,
that we are only that:
Word