Buenos Aires, October 21rst, 2017, my beggining of the century

A tenuous, light
grave solemn music that lingers in my bloodstream
the line of time of my grandfathers and my progenitors
as heavy as the weight of the Earth
this I taste

and it is the Earth that I carry heavily in my heart
coffins and flowers  in their brotherly bond
descending with me into the skies of azure

And me, the idiot
I think of the laborious technology of trains
and the mud of the slums in my fathers naked feet
I can´t control my emotions with that gipsy ghost
and the slums can´t control me but for a a blink in eternity

Immersed as I am into the age of madness
into these living times of the insanity
of my living and breathing
aching     lonely       soul

Shall it be no poetry here diggin like a worm into this putrid hole
in my chest staring right down my hopeless heart
then it would be work
hard work trying to be sensuous
trying to be the owner of a humanity that longs to form
to cry and not to break
to learn and yet to teach
and to inform kindly
desperately longing to not be dispatched into the trash can
like the news of yesterday
like orange peels 
rotting
into the times of the dust of the past