of Pound into thin slices

A. J. ABERATS

a.j.aberats@hotmail.es

industriaselraton@hotmail.com

Index
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 . And you know it . Yes, still there's time . 4,3,2,1, 0. Saying is . A coffee? . A day/year of 4 springs . Polar Star . I dream, you dream, she dream . Addictions . What evolution? . Fable . Ruins of love . Beings we are . Bandits of dreams . Goxua . Biomechanics . Tormented . The cataract of don Juan Manuel . Brief announcement . from Eve to Adam . Mistake prayer . No longer . The backpack of kisses . The son of the clown . Rebel farm . Love

1.- And you know it

I fell in love of your red bikini, of the nacreous set in your mouth, of your tricky curves, the aura of happiness you bring under your arm. ... And I had to shut up. Again and again. And deny it. And deny me. And disown. Deliver me to streamline my pulse, my passions, my desires, my wishes unstoppable to hold you in a corner for borrow a kiss. ... Only that, fear to steal a kiss, to the basting, is what throws me eyes to the ground.

2.- Yes, still theres time

Let's go... Let's go! Hey, still to come. Small snail evicted from your shell that any badborn called slug, nut turning crazy without work, scarecrow of sweet fruity hairs, do not yield to the desire to become a slave. Rebel. Indignity. Lifting your face so they see you the eyes, which you don't have fear, That we are tired of governments abuse!, fed up of being tender with an spartan system that clearly do not want. Fed up with being good with the bad. ... Be careful, darling with the slug, snail, the scarecrow, the exslave... the indignantet... The politician recycled into server of his people. ...Yes, still there's time.

3.- 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. Its said

The owner of my brush hangs coloured lights, dress smock pass them whores, chisels laughs over grimaces. Dreams about saving the world from an ancient plague that comes to be called Life. I admire her. Brings me crazy and without even knowing it. She is more Gypsy than Moon!

4.-

A coffee?

So I would like to tell you that the lyrics get stuck and not roll the paper. A coffee? Nothing compromises, except to the two mandatory kissing, well, and invent face of surprise or alibi if the quote out to frog and stay broken. But rare to happen, if we're going to what we, and the waiter brings seasoned juices; as well as utensils for croissant and toast. Solemn moment, in which we will be left alone as we have been. And there I will tell you I love you. And what I feed on the inside.

5.-

A day/year of 4 springs

On March 21st. I look to the rail and cry: Come spring! And if it's time, responds. She wore white, is now green and tomorrow will be gold. To the Moon again silver. Runs the Lady stripping them is.

6.-

Polar Star

Star, little star, star. Star that between trillion sisters dances, which urges men to their fates, beautiful star that you do not alter, tell me, you, who all drop to the eye, just when the world finish. Yesterday I believed it to be close. The rising lasted one little bit more than the previous day. Just a minute, but it was enough to swear grudge to the bastard of your half-brother that pompous it makes call Sun.

7.- I dream, you dream, she dream

Dirty, mind and tongue, I can imagine you naked on bed, golden, satisfied, sleepy after a good time of sex. You dream with the squaring of the circle, you dream to join Newton with the quantum theories, you dream with the perfect storm, you dream to travel to the Arcadia. Dirty, of mind and language, I can imagine you naked on bed.

8.-

Addictions

Sad, how that seeks to stone in soil after a concert. Boring, saddle horse with beefeater stride. Tired, for grinding the track with synthetic alkaloids from the Highlands. Mouthfuls of lozenges of colour. Stuffed mushrooms of Ray. Annoying, because disturb me in my daily bath of alcohol. ... Yes. Up to the testicles of any drug that you don't be in less cloths.

9.-

What the Evolution?

The man who I am began to roll at least 7 million years ago. Yesterday. Language, edge and fire. I have domesticate my appearance and willingness to not see the fangs under lip. Even into the pockets I repurchase the claws. The pots, the wheel and the written Law. The Math! The Philosophy!! In short, the rationality. Seven million years of evolution, pulled away, wanting to die, by my own free will, just to hear your laugh. What most absurd bug are!

10.-

Fable

Weary of his tyrant throne some King pulled his crown. And it came down the Hill to the pond. croak croak. And over the years and the storm, and drag by the mud, the jewel it waned. croak croak. It had rust, and even two tents remustache claimed it for dessert. croak croak. That is the story of the small ring as which allowed the ventriloquist Toad to give you another kiss. croak croak. croak croak.

11.-

Ruins of love

Tell us with flashes, as in old battles of yesteryear. Wars that ruined houses. Me not. I do not have. No. Even window that gives to your backyard. Although I get your voice, your breath, your multi-colored reflection. Shadows little Platonic, Aristotelian rather, in the soffit of my dome, foreshortening worthy of Caravaggio, that of not being me evicted, I would offer you health or ceiling.

12.-

Be beings

The pleasure of knowing Being is to be found anywhere. Between gripping arms, before a soft back with French manicure, or when randomly with eyes that cloister. And budge the soul! By simultaneously touching the bread. Bless random of 1 between a trillion for kissing the same cup without the intervention of Fortun. To hook any network, channel or gossip to know about your existence beyond the scapular which is technological altar. Beings will be. Beings we are. Be simple humans.

13.-

Bandits of dreams (1)

Obvious, hangs a hair my present life, the last... from a rope, and the future of a beam. Specifying, a beam in eye of alien. Issues of Economy even in the verse. ... So much power! So much power both can have interfere in the dreams of who builds, without brick or mortar, castles, bridges, passageways secrets to other universes, the issue of moneys?! Friend, sincere... something affects to the seallyrics which I intend to. ... (Sons of bitches, hopefully raise mausoleum under futures publics urinary such as the wretched Richard III!!!!)

(1) N. A. Dedicated to prostitutes ladies, with or without children, in the World of

Finance. With all my love.

14.-

Goxua

I had a dog-cat it was more pleasant to jump it than to skirt around. It was a bad bug that biting until biting more strong I. It was not meek, but it understood the ladder of the ecological niche and soon, we had band, shunning us kids, dogs, cats and even bipedal rats in the neighbourhood were refusing us. Not to mention old and girls with pigtails. Hell was ours. We howl to the Moon from the Gunners esplanades, in the "Z" park, in the Cans, in the old town!, we made prints for nuisance of junkies and sugar mill worker. What dog him mine! What malignancy distilled!! What bastards can become the owners!!! What wolfmouth looks now the district without my dog!!!!

15.-

Biomechanics

Do not remember the pain... do not remember! Or that I grabbed me. To living things took out me 3 molars, and no accounts have been the stanch with thread of the 7. a blind appendix removed, anginas from the hands of Dr. Freddy Krueger, broken bones, except the coccyx, all, and cramping varied such birth of Siamese twins. And ears. And migraine headaches. And affirm that it does not remember the pain, no. Confirmed I have it to get me out yesterday, myself, the heart. And there goes the fucking stiff on the table, asleep, pulseless, realizing to disprove vague and useless organ.

16.-

Tormented

Without you I am more poor, twice, and I feel me the half. *** Call to the window ghosts of possible lives with the tinkling of Ray that not stop. *** Anxiety. By be and leave. Snoring the clouds. *** Wave red flags on beaches once blue from the old Europe. *** Something cooked the keel and I do not smell, ozone saturates the air and the pitui Cataractcroooookkk!!!!! Saint Barbara, that has nearly fallen!

17.-

Don Juan Manuels cataract

Between Segovia and Madrid. White from the peak to the pasture stun the jet of Somosierra. Well fat the pipe, icy's to rabbet icicles, drag to Porto is much. To quickly our step, thus was, yesterday, the place, where it "fell / quiet", the good of Menga de Manzanares.

18.-

Brief announcement

Transfer systolic heart. Reason at the caretakers lodge.

19.-

from Eve to Adam

When your father died I will love again. Ours will be a mature love although spend 20 years. 20 good for 20 lost. 20! Nothing. Trifle. Five years led me to learn to the point you like milk.

20.- Yerro prayer

Owl of 180... of 360 degrees if interested. Owl on the shoulder you light wise goddess more bizarre. You, that know about intangible, winds that coagulate whim, tell me size carrier eyes do you treasure peak, from my beloved, word? Parrot! Open the muzzle! Burps Duff! Why. When. How. Where. Who. What. Only know, that I know nothing. And also it has shat over me that fucking bird.

21.-

No longer

I am not writing, its my damn shadow attached to a reading lamp which insists on guiding my letters from left to right. I don't think, its my sick brain which wander with darned battered words of accents. Already I do not breathe, Its my inertial lungs are those that pumping smoke to my poisonous nicotine-filled alveoli. I do not move, its my dead muscles are a beautiful stream, for a few moments, given that life so they bind again. I no longer love, my perfidious soul that does not conform with hear bright, fleeting, litanies of eternal love. I am not afraid, I do not avoid, not escaped what I feel, do not invented excuses if I don't, don not my feelings I perverted. No longer. I dried up ink in the inkwell.

22.-

The backpack of kisses

Broke me the kisses rucksack by a brick of your luggage. Damn the creator of big sack for four handles! It was not new, going, nor am I! But patching Harlequins Life had colour. What a backpack was it!

23.- The son of the Clown

The circus of the world pollutes my pulse. Odes, songs, sonnets. Poems. Verses. The words full of bitterness, joy, always filled with all them, overflowing, mine and outsiders, touched by the channel, seeking what you intend, to dislike one... On the scale! Into a microscope!! To the pillory!!! Lets be sincere. Give up more your words than a pause? A comma? An eyelid medium wing? Would a constrain the guts? A tear that make lake my first glasses? Clown the word that undermines sentiment.

24.-

Rebel farm

My cow of two heads, and four udder, feeds on love, gestures, and sprouts that clog the Valley from January to December. However, my carvehorn goat from December to January is not powered, graze crib asceticism that leave without just milk. Also have a freak chicken not putting out of date any egg, no. She fried them and cluck without any remorse of an infanticide. Thieves pigeons had until recently, after the tip-off, and the raid, which is wary of any dish with millet that resembles as a casserole or hotel with latch. Curious, what I do not see, And I am still in delirium!, are mice. Maybe the dragon of the sink eat them.

25.-

Love

I get nervous when I write to you betweenlines from a poem. Both you encrypted or myself know if listening to me. Love, are there? Show yourself. Leave of where you are, leave, I know you are there. Show your face lips, lobes. The tongue. The clean look. Give me a clear signal of our existence.

agusysusi@hotmail.es

industriaselraton@hotmail.es

FIN END