Straight Glory Hole Melbourne

AT THE FAIR WILL PROMISE

will

to announce the Maya world and I'll be waiting.

now will be the apocalypse of Coppola and beyond his Vietnam and the Heart of Darkness Conrad, I'll be waiting.

will in the Santa Maria Onetti a man groping in the middle of the night recognized the traces of your steps and waiting for your return.

will be in Cathedral of that Vargas Llosa had not yet discovered the man itching of fascism sitting at a table in the Lima August rainy and cold, waiting.

in the park will Sabato Lezama still a young guy, hoping to stumble back to the blind by underground passages in Buenos Aires and Jujuy accompanied by the broken remains of Lavalle.

will hopscotch in Cortázar's Paris hopes to meet you who will never be the Maga.

will in each story, each impossible romance, every word written in the fog, scrawled on the scrolls of the dawn, the need to find you, you return to the windy corner of the city lost in the desert, when nothing had been said or written when the word was not even a gesture, when loneliness was not the hug he started to deny it.