Full Length Trifold Mirror

The geometry as a way to reach the sacred.

These are the dates and locations for upcoming workshops:

Sunday 16 January: Pamplona, \u200b\u200bSirius Center guardiana7@yahoo.es

Sunday 23 January: Ourense, nuevarmonia @ gmail.com

Saturday 29 January: Gijón, nuevarmonia@gmail.com

Sunday 6 February: Pamplona, \u200b\u200bSirius guardiana7@yahoo.es Center

Saturday, February 12: Barcelona, \u200b\u200b luisabauco@gmail.com

Sunday 20 February: Vitoria , craft centers info@artesanando.com

Saturday 26 February: Buenos Aires, elhadarosa@yahoo.com.ar

Thank you all for your support.

Espn Fantasy Basketball

Me Hueco

oil spills in your eyes
nothing
kills your garden intact red blood smells
where no one is appointed
Adams and Eves
ephemeral smoke bones vanish
infinite corridors of empty metaphor
walls scratched by Man nails
Semen thread threading the eye of the needle hole you

peak
word off light dazzles me
melted candle wax
unrecognizable corpse of what we were cremated
paved meat
infidels two to two finishes


alone and hidden in the silent mill smell
book gap that is not mine me
'm not the one who loves you
I am filled with sand which
clocks that measure non
kisses that are lost on your tongue

"The mock the false image transparent" by Dali Salavas
http://www.salvador-dali.org/

Lip Ring 18g That Looks Natural Mole

January and February 2011, Pamplona, \u200b\u200bBarcelona, \u200b\u200bVitoria, Asturias, Galicia and more ... UPCOMING WORKSHOPS

Geometry as a way to reach the Sacred

Top

2011 in Spain and we are organizing workshops in several cities. If you want to know my view of the geometry and me to come to your city, please contact me: nuevarmonia@gmail.com
Thanks for your interest.
A hug and good input from year to all
Latif

Pressure Lower Stomach

The conquest of the philosopher

and to love but what is enigma?
What's in the world beneath the cold green sky and really worth the effort?
A lot of yellow books are nothing Nietzsche's body
and squares of Torino
and buildings with darker arches
my navel and towers infinite and finite my attempts to be myth.

And always behind a brick wall a locomotive passing
leaving the smoke which forms the face of my father
and Volos ship sails always
sea and sings its way the song of my mother ...
We're just mannequins made with fragments fragments
Narciso, Laius and Jocasta.

In the shadow of a man under the sun is
more enigmas than in all religions
is real and the unreal are coexisting clocks pins of rub
impenetrable solitude and melancholy over a rock
silent distances as hooks thrown in a lake of parquet
where fish are thirsty rather than hungry.

And there are wars and there are exiles
blood and a wall dividing Europe
blood and forgotten painting in Montparnasse. I
zinc glove stuck in a door of Ferrara
sending envelopes with locks of hair so they know I'm alive,
alive and holding my head on the thighs of the disquieting muses.

A knot of perspectives and a claustrophobic
signs are the conquest of the philosopher and almost anything else, perhaps
canyon high noon or my sex exposed on a platform,
and artichokes my dream and open a door to my right
and all single and looking
without decoding the mystery that hides the angle of the tiles.

I was a soldier and was an enemy of modern dictatorship
surrealist and neoclassical
lover Ariadne and Dionysus
and the signature of my self-portrait dressed and went

costume and the naked man beneath

"The conquest of the philosopher" by Giorgio de Chirico
http://www. dechirico.org /

Cervix Feels 2 Days Before Period

in Comodoro Rivadavia, Tucuman, Salta and San Rafael.

If you are interested in this topic and want me to come to your town to share a workshop, please contact me: nuevarmonia@gmail.com

Colon Hydrotherapist Salary In Florida

Fencer unarmed and naked (Jimena)

Jimena
your name was invented so do not write on walls or trees
to rhyme with others and not to me, not even yours ...
Your neck is half of the moon, my earth promised
be burning rubber on your heart to cut traffic
but I know that I am at a precipice that I will not name names ...
many square centimeters add your moles,
many key games in your mouth is lost in my body and do not know ...
I're without me, I absorb unwittingly
as verbs do not know that dwell within me and in any
underwater beasts deep sleep in a swamp of flesh that shakes
tremble trembles like the ashes of incense perfume
dead crouched who complains quietly tickling
flower names and moves you to appoint you go blind ...
And you close your eyes as if the world could do without
of these coals burning green
forever locked in a look that does not look
is just mouth-kissed landscape, unarmed fencer
and naked
hurts me more with her navel that I with my sword ...
marks / scars from a dance rehearsal in rink
are the scratches that have not given me back,
your moles are knots in the wood of a Stradivarius violin that no one touches
your neck is signed by Picasso at the height rose
and your navel is a raft offshore banks that are looking ...
is to send a telegram describe the score of a symphony
a harp while you untie the silence and make it into beating of the birds flying
blindfolded to recognize your perfume and you
deliver their feathers as an offering ...
're asleep now, I'm sure your clothes
awaits you as the apple skin waits in vain for the fruit is seen again
forks guard your hair is falling swords on the battlefield
but you're there belonging to all
you decoded the meaning of the cosmos and I
an oil slick stretching
extending to touch with the fingertips ... Jimena

the Sorcerer's Stone is your lipstick
and my shadow is your cat sleeping at the foot of your bed ... Amarte es
be convinced that there is a key contained in a flour sack and bury
hand in search and realize that just because you feel like
and no key or
locks lips just look out to nothing
ready to tangle in a senseless war and die for nothing
because we were born to kiss and be kissed
language versus language
and bats who sleep on our palates are frightened and run away anywhere
the middle of the jungle before he died ego and
see the lion who has your eyes eating a zebra having my own flesh
meat versus

"The Equivocal Woman (also Known As The teetering Woman)" by Max Ernst
http://www.maxernstmuseum.lvr.de/

Brain Aneurysm Break Throughs

eighteen carat Gold is made the arrowhead
that I remove the leg while myself fled the mazes
ego-end ...
Guest of the Seven Seas tar
my medal is zinc or cobalt
all I have is my heart wrapped in newspaper
and a tuning fork that I found lying in the womb of my mother ...
A deserted penthouse where Freemasons meet, and I named
say I'm dead skin around a gold tooth
and the fifth element is
oil and rice again and never milk elixir
become eternal in navel cord
forever sealed meat
and the keys to the house of my childhood carried in the womb by the wind
Cyclops eye of the storm chasing me over the rooftops of the psyche
bloody knife in his neck corseted two nipples hidden
cement that dips his bread in our blood
and eats alone at a table with two plates ...
rottweilers Flowers and shit in their gardens
and no philosopher's stone pavers only symbols such as a wall
metaphysical alchemy or science useless, rib Nimrod
secret sweeps the petals of a flower gold ...
under the bed and between porn magazines
emerald table reduces philosophy to a mole on my back
not be or be through the absolute
to quench the thirst of this paste of mercury, sulfur and salt
behind Rainbow knows there is more treasure
a copper lightning rod ...
The worst thing is looking at sea and plead guilty
holy undress and be naked with wings on the floor, and have
molotov cocktail in his hand and wanting to throw it to yourself pseudo
masturbatory and despotic king without a crown out of nowhere,
that Venus de Milo locked in a house of mirrors
deformed and subject of his hands buried playing member of another statue ...
theoretical gold there, is not measured with golden bars nor lead primohermano More
and more tear gas and rubber bullets to use against me
not silence the voice that whispers from the basement of the desert
real blood covered the last thirteen layers of linen and
that behind a mask of solid gold and not Chapter 125 of the Book of the Dead Tutankhamen
incorporates reunited say a word
the name of his mother ...
Nothing like dying young
mummified viscera custody of your fine jewelry and
and then violate your grave twice and three thousand years, you forget ...
Everything seems so much to me I'm afraid ... Poor soul

their offspring born dead twice and foot rests
was killed half bad and half of malaria Kohler
nature and is now stuffed
KV62

"Vacuous Adolescence" by Jeffrey Michael Harp
gallery

Chocolate Syrup Out Of Carpet

The Freemasons and The Sea Inside Tutankhamun

Dripping covered by tree roots hurricane eye that
made sure the wood of the coffin of someone
not mine ...
sap, juice of the earth, and the fog, icy breath of the moon,
forever alien and distant
unspeakable words in the ear of the desert
stabbed by the voice of a dying camel
saying goodbye humming a tune unpublished
morphine Symphony in C sharp ...
A stringless bass in the basement of myself
closes his eyes and sees a pair of ballet
that polio became a pair of mutilated
glass eyes drawn on a crumpled paper
and across the pizza delivery phone
and nearer me between the sheets, tubes and bandages
and deeper depths where I shot and I do not die
and a drop of serum and another and another
versus silence the noise of the sea waves ...
Dead Sea Dead Sea
reincarnated as a glass of water
three funds would be better targets
gin and death like a dog that barks at the ambulance
and then goes to sleep in bed
where the corpse of his master has left a gap to land
forever ...
to survive the poetic and medical history and be
sleeper kerosene torch fire centuries ago did not pronounce or meat
chemotherapy psychoanalytic Freud
a vegetarian who eats nails and the wax fruit
on the table and pours a glass of wine ...
'm a pile of bricks on a wheelchair
cancer landscape, silent pendulum, spring stuffed ...
That's the only truth
I just feel your hand on the nape
as who takes the pulse of a corpse
and the other on my chest, is a telegram
closed and your tears confirm that you understand me and even if you
sleep curled up like me want to die
because if I touch just
paralyzed like a bull in the third to kill the bullfighter lame foot
kiss and left the sword in his last kiss tongue steel ...
My will is written in the most hidden of my navel
I leave all to whom I untangle the hair in the morgue and pull my bust Bronze sea ...
Dead Sea Dead Sea
reincarnated as a barrel of oil
like petals of a flower swept
dismembered and the stray bullet lodged in the broken stem
after ending cocktail of falling forward
to infinity well
shadows where the seven seas are dead

"Sanctuary # 2" by Mary Daniel Hobson
http://www.marydanielhobson.com/
OFFSHORE Trailer (film by Alejandro Amenabar)

How To Create A Health Board

and the Vatican Pedophiles

Toro stallion
your member is a stake and thy seed dry tree branch
with which you write your name in the sand ...
A column pre-made flesh, who walks with crutches after
your steps with your eyes and your gesture is chasing you
exhausted until his steps back to the womb for life
and denies be your Carbon-14 and your astrolabe
withered petals of marble destined to spit the nest
veins of a leaf falling in the spring of thousand novescientos do not know how
drowning in the sea portrayed in the photos of children.
Son of Laius and Jocasta,
change of a harp string in the basement of the Palace,
candle in the fire, wax and fire as fencers who hate
is time to ventilate the middle Earth and the lava pouring into the bowl
although fish die ...
If you close your eyes reborn a handful of wind and foam knife,
the perfume is cursed, it attracts dogs dying
and scare you away and you end up
open your eyes and you're surrounded by black trash bags
dare you play with your foot and only a
was impossible not to cry, it was a dead dog,
was you and your father was, knotted bones as ingrown toenails,
and foundations
semen and semen sea level
and the height of the mouth also semen ...
pedophilia is called adult fingers to open a hole for itself
sex between the legs same as a child who is the stem of every effort,
give up the ass and psyche, and completed and returned to First,
and calluses on their hands something that is not known if saliva or crying while sweating
uneven uneven eyes blur
who knows when he finally closed and fall asleep ...
A vine grows in the back during sleep
and rats come and go in an unbearable tingling
the heart is an ice pack to the beat that beats leaky faucets and
crunch furniture are like caged lions roaring ... Half
silkworm, half worm dry
butterfly flight is dissected and contained in an algebraic expression
science kneeling at the feet of mud
the calf looking at anything like the horizon ...
All roads lead to Rome
and the womb of the Virgin Mary is a minefield over
detonation shattered the stained glass
Vatican and smoke always half black and half white
and never a God who fulfills the promise apocalyptic ...
female face, body of a lion, wings of a bird
the Sphinx and Oedipus, the stone lip of the Oracle and Apollo playing the lyre,
the words and music of the anthem were written in
nothing serves eyes removed with a utility knife
with the same blood is not always clean the crime scene,
the crime of being born ...

"Last Supper (The Evidence for the Existence of God)" by Gottfried Helnwein
http://hispano.helnwein.com/

Nortes Get Along With Crips?

The kleptomania and checkmate

Jaque mate
the battlefield is a black and white marsh
is Freud's body floating in the river, and silent all.
Mine and yours in the trenches of space and time ...
what's yours is your tongue and your belly, your palate and your nails
suspicious until the color of your eyes
smoke, smoke, fire drill, fire you started burning curtains and
all covered with kerosene ...
cornered The blood in your veins is known
guilty and have nowhere to hide your treasures
've covered all the ground crossings
and can not be U-turns in this two-way pendulum anesthetized
thrusting thrown in the middle of a bullring deserted. I recognized
by the port number, because it was mine,
entered and saw you looking at your shadow, extending your hand,
was nothing more than an attempt to take the fingerprints of another
to me knew it was just the beginning
you could see into the eyes of the victims as if they were the stained glass windows of a church
and singing in choirs have blind verses where God is a syllable or two
and where the bells ring calling to mass
and take over the pulse of the faithful ... Believe
sink in the Dead Sea with a gag that tells COPYRIGHT
while a hacker tunnels into your flesh reduced to binary numbers,
fractals have been dismembered and buried them at the teats of the body
do not know if it was called Buddha, Mahatma Gandhi, Che Guevara and Jesus .

Checkmate is a naval war in the desert
and your progress to stay with the sand of a ten-minute clock
and the voices of twenty centuries dumb knotted in a zip ...
shake the foundations in the roar of lions locked
and skin as moles cats crouch
and jump to your face and violently scratched you
calluses and scars will be concrete seas
where will you go to wet your toes to recognize unique ... You
and scars, the foreign and own, the innate and acquired
knotted in a dialectic spiral and persecutory
and red lights are raped every day thing
and collects doom and agony of not being or not being
pixel at constructing and deconstructing we will
to be impenetrable or totally vulnerable
Checkmate
two kings who hate and kill in a painless balance
two armies of the alien seeking
watch not know that they are equal
that nothing is on the other hand they is prohibited.
The pornographic to exist is anchored in the flesh of others
with you and your eyes lost in indescribable pleasure
with your saliva on my
sex with my semen in your pelvis saying something fuzzy
GAME OVER

"And the winner is ..." by David Whitlam
http://www.davidwhitlam.com/

Cs Source Launch -veryhigh

The pornstars and El Niño Time

carnivorous plant in the flesh is born and takes root in the bone
are certain your nipples and your navel and
piercing your tongue and your seven seas silicone
are as certain as these precious stones are not saying they were arrowheads.
Your clitoris is a dead rat choked intersection
and your belly a skylight that gives the carpet that I
spotted me and all the men chasing
Cleopatra centuries out of date on your face.
I invite you to my seventh ground for my language is key to the padlock
always open and we get together and alone at Passarella is in the valley of your breasts
dunes of stale bread soaked in boiling milk
and that Christ will paint the toenails because you confused with Magdalena
because it looks like all seek:
comfort.
And I want only one outbreak of you to bathe in semen, to spit in his mouth
to take it by the throat and choke him play,
and I do not distinguish yourself, not knowing what color your eyes
but I get ...
flooded I guess my sex or any
naked as the flowers trampled as cockroaches
looking for your clothes on the floor and your voice in the cry
onomatopoeia of the fire, moan of the logs, different
cry of fear
axes but only find the front of the murderer beat
fleeing the scene of the crime, the body of another ...
Carnivorous plant, soil in your pot tastes like sweat and saliva,
that land was transplanted from the dead tree that I
where now there is a gap on the half-hidden roots poke my
dazzled by the moonlight at dawn
milk and cry, cry and cling and clench their fists who
empty as if absent for a treasure buried in the ground of our hands
but it's just a desperate act of a narcissist who lost his face in the sea
we looked at the shore and watched the waves had not only reflect but the whole
to hide like a dog with bone
perhaps take it to you because I am more yours than mine
because you're the world and I an apple core and confinement
seeds and nothing else,
you have an anchor in the center of the horizon
an anchor that burns like a fire-and-white black. Let
heating the kettle and the oceans
child to rest and not crying tears flood
then gets up and looks at you and masturbates
and its fruit are waves of yards and yards
foam and salt will be everywhere
the smell will be impossible as your thighs are impossible
Lela Star, Rachel Foxxx, Angel Dark
and what to give more names if they are all the same
rack of Cain scattered
spotted entangled in a towel
semen and blood of all
men

"Reality is an Invention - Balthus" by Joel Peter Witkin
web (no) official

Edible Glitter Dissolves?

Time
ambush us from time in the time we licked the scars, time will camouflage and betrays us,
time and we break the shell of every hour ...
What will be the destination shelter is the sun at eclipse?
be out of the chalk circle drawn by yourself in the space / time? You would like to evict
inside and out,
window shades start giving your soul
and your skin will sprout a vine that completely cover
and that these questions were unanswerable
and you were safe as the contents of a box that says FRAGILE.
"Like a flower of recycled paper where there had written a suicide note"
you said but it was more than that,
was as if the snakes will eat your skin back to abandoned ...
After Al was a matter of time,
time and your arms breaking the shell of each hour
endless hours climbing skyscrapers is the fire escape
because the roof heard a voice say it's our damn voice
pyromaniac, damn voice in flames, damn your voice ...
"I would be another, different," you said, "tie the geometry in my moles,
like a magician escapist get out of these chains and latches that lock me in the face. "
A surgeon from a vantage point deep precipice see your flesh enslaved
and draw a square with lines on your face, and
anesthesia and with a scalpel and technology to enhance cheekbones
and sleeping in a bed with you and with your signature on paper just in case ... Six months
pendulum dumb moves in silence with onomatopoeia unrecognizable,
six months time and ours, and endless hours and bands ...
And the cells of skin and bones built years ago
empty and someone comes to your eyes and scream, "Yo, This, superego!
and returns the voices echo as if nobody cares,
as if throwing an empty bottle from a floor 18
and broke into pieces on the street
and those who pass will only parts broken and look up to see a face,
the face of the insane, an alien face, just to confirm that it was not them ... You will
this and be all and you will no
interior corridors running through a chessboard wet wet
semen rain, whiskey, tears, white spirit, and drive out
your wig in the mirror because nobody touches my hair,
because you discovered that love is not precious stone is placed between the sheets
not to sleep alone in that battlefield and lost ...
endure much longer the peach pit in the lion's mouth?
Yes, the time and we, and the lion and peach, and the puddle of blood ...
time butchers us, we removed the skin, eat the pulp and throws the leftovers of lions,
and waiting on the shore and the rocks waiting for waves and choking and
back into the sea but the waves revive and return to shore and die again and again reborn,
and us and them and lips of the shaking statues of poets,
bite not to say that before now were wave and carved stone at the request of the municipality and are
eat bread crumbs to pigeons in the squares,
those pigeons that were once bread without feathers and wings
and are now thought cannibals and are frightened for themselves and want to be different, be different,
but no output in this alley of mutilated flesh

"Visit to the plastic surgeon" by Remedios Varo
Thriller TIME (Kim Ki Duk film)

Megaphone Voice Changer

The arsonists and the summit of Everest

This sun is that a relief in the currency that looks like a sky
I swear there will be a number of the other side when we finally fall, because fall
one day to another, I'm sure.
courting Peacocks will not see their shadows,
be reading the labia of a mine dead
dead or indifferent do not care,
resizing thing as silence dry
is the flapping of a butterfly dissected
Moses broke the table against the calf, and God,
fruit that grows in the summit of Everest.
What is snow and what is the asphalt? Cursed
not respond to touch me, cursed me, cursed all ... Foundations
facts
costume jewelry with diamond while writing on the wall during these days I locked
as a Rubik's Cube split off looking at your pieces on the floor
not so much known name ...
recognize naked in the mirror and
genes is like having the first straw and cleaned in the wedding dress of my mother, hybrid
treachery and semen, white breast inside and outside ,
thick gray locked in the erect member Oedipus
gray because yes, sometimes the sky is pink and sometimes not,
because the shadow follows us as did any good ...
not come to visit me, you're with me on every beat, but do not come,
to bring me a lamp shade and nothing else?
I know you do not like you enjoy burning the filament see
but it's like in the bathroom humming the song of the summer, burn
see reassures me, is like biting your nails, like writing poetry ...
is beautiful to see how the landscape becomes diffuse with a focus
quiver trees are anchored forever as pawns in a chess abandoned
your face becomes another, like if you petted a distance, your I've seen,
the clock, yes, the clock back it seems painted by Dali, if you wanted to see it, only if you want ...
only see blood on the sand in the arenas,
do not care if it is blood of a bull or matador, only see blood if the blood is not theirs.
There are no matches or stoves, only half of pills and addicts
told you, is the summit of Everest without snow and without fire.
fourth degree burns on his arm and a whore referral to psychiatrist
Years spinning sheep for the soul, kissing her virgin pussy on the ex-girlfriends,
and eye drops .. .
At naptime if you shout "Eco" rumbles and you feel two or three times,
if you shout "Fuck" does not feel anything ...
I'll tell you not to come, you do not yell "Eco", which basically know what I mean.
teetotaler If I'm here they are fire and ice than abstainers,
eating leftovers as
dogs fighting over the bones to bury and dig at the summit of Everest ...
ironically are the steps to fire, every time I look I laugh,
seem as if they were made of ash, dark color and have that consistency that fragile.
Everything is made of ash, fire off, desecrated graves, bone powder,
alone in the center of the earth moving lava rocks as the saliva in your mouth.
What is gold and what is mud? Cursed
not respond to touch me, cursed me, cursed all ...

image Yosuke Yamashita in a solo piano concert (and fire)

Ejaculation During A Brazillian Wax?

The freaks and the midnight sun

The asymmetry is finally ours and not theirs, and not
we hide our cores, we are free, free
eye stone watching for us, free
which hung a rista of garlic on their doors so they will not timbráramos,
free and expelled from paradise and all ...
In the white of the eye are equal, and almost anything else,
Dolce & Gabbana for you and me
400mg lithium but no matter ...
A mother gives birth to Siamese
and crying that we are surrounded by stained sheet,
and only then will you will notice
Narcissus looks into a pool of blood from another
and then stay blind forever ...
ushers turn on their headlights,
show me my seat and go,
miss the midnight sun and the lamps of 25 watts,
the lights, opens the curtain
and even the darkness is a lie that I think other
I believe ...
Proteus Evil lurks in us
at least one lunar
like a drop of blood dissolved in a glass of wine,
and that is printed on a bar code in a Hall of binary numbers,
untranslatable Picasso paintings signed by anyone discovered
that we are, they gather dust cloths ...
skylights of all households are broken promises
windows of heaven are threatening to fall
phenotype and genotype kneeling
as suicide visit their friends to say goodbye, and
we went out and stopped the taxi, like bats
domesticated barely touched on his flight ...
sirens were no women with polio
someone boarded a plane and pulled the Dead Sea
and returned to the shore and kissed poets and died of cold
and were buried like a bag of ice after
spades and shovels salt,
and their voices were the silence dumb drum
hit blanking universal child,
the first beat of history locked ...
The myth is a maimed leg locked in a spiral poetic
and ignorance, and sometimes it is bad milk.
Otherness begins in our eyes
is a leak outside a wall with my name,
that is mine because they wanted another ...
I is improper this hair that has stayed with me,
dirty stuck on the vine of my chest, screaming
was yours, mine
being buried in a back pocket after
to buy meat for the cat,
that do not belong to anyone ...

"Jewish Giant at Home with His Parents in the Bronx" by Diane Arbus
http://diane-arbus-photography.com/

I

How A Virgen Woman Look Like?

Sexual

plant male an endangered species
traveling alone in a zeppelin to nowhere
below me are the ant and ant queens,
caged lions and free
's arms Venus de Milo
buried and the rest, which preserves humanity, they say it is art
that is also under me,
like a rock my foot chained to crawl naked on my journey.
reflectors are eggs hatched by fleeing from themselves,
hail and there are grenades that have come from the same womb,
no sex until hoarse as inert
is an axiom of subsistence,
a war of flesh against flesh postpartum neutered through the eye of a needle ...
I carry in my heat a pint of blood donated
and my wallet a picture of my mother,
the rest have been abandoned in the crumbling of the blue genes, reproduction
silent playback empty
as a factory dvd's being virgins masturbatory
into nothingness,
embryos all
bullet Rubber shot to the heart of the deceased.
I peel and seeds from the fruit of oil and saliva,
schizophrenic hybrid, evolutionary, and domesticated,
chewed by science and art,
grain of sand stuck in the nut of clocks ...
I stopped and made the future of a wooden doll that sat on my lap,
I did talk to my voice, say my parliament, and now
shut me
are crushed by Sandy Sandy ,
as a Moebius strip cut off and thrown into the fire ...
ashes are not just traces of fire, are also
genital wildfire that burned us,
that survived and that invades the pores,
that we deny because it's not ours,
invertebrate alien and ties us to our shadows boned ridiculous
witnesses the eviction of oblivion ... Nothing
forget fetuses, especially we,
forget even death, not even discovered ...
And what we found ...?
nudity, sex, sin, the silence ...?
The wheel, fire, America, a star ...? We
conquerors of our navel sealed by another
echoes of semen from another century,
gadflies tag flying around a corpse ...
Barcode hidden in fractals,
like vomit played himself
and creatures await incubators will also be vomiting,
beats that will become locked hidden door slamming
already latent in the depths of a being
me but I will not say to take my own eyes ...

"Evolution" by Otto Rapp
official web

Colon Hydrotherapist Salary In Tampa Fl

interior hallways on the source in offshore flares

The desert is a Russian ballet dancer
and the moon a pianist in the Ghetto Warsaw
kneeling in the sky and quietly reviewed the symphonies
nobody knows ...
will be killed with silver bullets
to birds in the trees in the courtyard
of women's breasts that I once read
erected their nests with twigs, mud and recently removed acupuncture needles
of this guitar without strings I'm
and neutering all the lions to sleep
without the roar of a beast that calls on instinct,
they call the stars light years away
that runs your bishop on the chess not
while the head of the fish returned to the sea once
is cut to make schnitzel with lemon
for people I never saw or recited a poem on fire
like someone removed flowers from a vase that was broken ... The
stoned a stained glass pieces are the syllables of a word is silent
and an ice rink is a sheet of tracing
the fate of men who have taken the shoes, instead
bag Ice is a belly desempotrado
a cold dead mermaid on the shore of the Red Sea
back has a huge amount of nails
as a free fork keys not lock open more
the clenched fist that takes without looking
and test and becomes frustrated and gives up
and sits on the doorstep of his soul made Glitter ...
Who had perfect pitch to translate the beats
origami swan buried in your flesh,
made with a leaf torn from my moleskine May
of May that it was in May and was
France where I was held hostage by an army of shadows
gagged me with the shadow of a pendulum
started a clock that never saw
that added hours never happened,
to continue without going
not give us mouth to mouth When we need a few minutes
because they know that it will be late,
is always late
we came only to see the waves fuck and lost ... Corpse
sweep the bloody sand of a cockfight
spiedo or chicken with fries, those are the options ... We
high Duchamp urinal signed by the size of a Stradivarius, our inner
is the urine of others, our scars
written words in the body almost always
names or insults that we deal with
as we walk the red tide reaches the shore and
no one takes a bath ...
Now that everyone has been able to build my castle with this
abandoned sand and not see anyone and no one will read it, it is only mine ...

"Fountain" by Marcel Duchamp
http://www.understandingduchamp.com/