Among Hadas swamps and old trees, some fantastic endless pastures and crystals hanging from the leaves of flowers, climbs plucked asteroid falling into its deepest sleep. In the seat ass chicks bitten by a drop of sugar that transformed the air passing in teeth. It's great when the wind and rain dragging their hats when the time is eagerly takes an umbrella and catch another quietly to the elderly in the bottom of my home listening as someone, perhaps the dog house to explode plays church bells, my mother sleeps like the girl in the story of Disney and my father snoring rhythmically to the cat's purr of the tile that I saw happen in the roof of my neighbor. Red shoes and a good corbatin leave in the middle of my pillow to warm and tastes good morning my day, maybe a dried spittle left ajar when my lips and let out an occasional dream.
"try to define poetry as a whole completely free action and selfless spirit of ethical budgets, political or rational men are formulated as programs for happiness and justice. This exercise of the creative spirit originated in sensitive powers, it is limited to the field of pure subjectivity, useless, the solitary act of Being poetic exercise no social function or moralistic. It is an act that runs itself, the most useless of the creative spirit. Jean-Paul Sartre described him as the choice of failure. Poetry is, in essence, an aspiration of undisturbed beauty. The most corrupting vice masturbatory the modern spirit. "GA.
