noviembre 22, 2011

Béquer and Rock and Roll

I know it's only rock'n'roll.
But I like it.

You have also been twelve years old.
You also recognize
the trembling of the skin as you make your way.

You have felt the fire in your eyes
that experience intensity for the first time.

It's winter. My child-like fingers
push eagerly, freeing a poem.

Behind there is a young man with a goatee
and the endless eyes of a sensual dreamer.

Words scurry across my chest
like starving ants...

Suddenly, a direct hit
to my conscience,
just like when I listen to rock'n'roll.

The profoundest place of meaning.

Poetry is the opposite of death.

A sudden certainty of the unknown.

Maybe it's only rock'n'roll.

But I like it.

Raquel Lanseros.

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