luns, 22 de xuño de 2015

Medo

De cando os ventiladores inundaban a habitación
E as formigas eran amigas matutinas coma quen anda
un campo
espido
sen máis máscara  que os soños e unha pel entumecida
entumecida polos golpes voraces da vida
entumecida pola soidade
entumecida por respirar con tantos delirios
un carreiro de formigas fican 
para dar voltas 
en círculos
e o medo apodérase de nós
coma quen mira os ollos dunha serpe de verán
vexo os teus ollos 
e podo dicirche que 
fun feliz
que me gusta o cine independente
o mirar profundo
os sonrisos da xente
a rebeldía
a carraxe
gústanme as formigas e os espidos que corren en liberdade

as formigas corren polo teito

Fear
Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive.
Fear of falling asleep at night.
Fear of not falling asleep.
Fear of the past rising up.
Fear of the present taking flight.
Fear of the telephone that rings in the dead of night.
Fear of electrical storms.
Fear of the cleaning woman who has a spot on her cheek!
Fear of dogs I've been told won't bite.
Fear of anxiety!
Fear of having to identify the body of a dead friend.
Fear of running out of money.
Fear of having too much, though people will not believe this.
Fear of psychological profiles.
Fear of being late and fear of arriving before anyone else.
Fear of my children's handwriting on envelopes.
Fear they'll die before I do, and I'll feel guilty.
Fear of having to live with my mother in her old age, and mine.
Fear of confusion.
Fear this day will end on an unhappy note.
Fear of waking up to find you gone.
Fear of not loving and fear of not loving enough.
Fear that what I love will prove lethal to those I love.
Fear of death.
Fear of living too long.
Fear of death.

I've said that
Raymond Carver


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