such a brilliant poet! May your coffin leak and may your body disintegrate into letters which the wind can blow into words. May squirrels find a word a day for three months, bury in the dirt around a tree where people have fucked for hundreds of years and then one day when some asshole in some kind of uniform--it doesn't have to general, you know. It could be an accountant or a dentist (people I know you loved to spend time with) will be walking by this same and he'll spill and fall and miracle of miracles-he'll land smack down on his face
and break his nose.
And by that simple happenstance, people and squirrels will know that Nicanor Parra is dead and still doing very well.
Happy Anti-Birthday!
ReplyDeletesuch a brilliant poet! May your coffin leak and may your body disintegrate into letters which the wind can blow into words. May squirrels find a word a day for three months, bury in the dirt around a tree where people have fucked for hundreds of years and then one day when some asshole in some kind of uniform--it doesn't have to general, you know. It could be an accountant or a dentist (people I know you loved to spend time with) will be walking by this same and he'll spill and fall and miracle of miracles-he'll land smack down on his face
ReplyDeleteand break his nose.
And by that simple happenstance, people and squirrels will know that Nicanor Parra is dead and still doing very well.