Telling and telling
It has become hollow
Writing and writing
...
Oh, the death…, the truth…
Those who had been yesterdays
are no more today.
Those who were the realities yesterday,
...
The poet fell into
a slumber
during his writing.
The characters jumped out
...
There is a revolt
in the drawer of my table.
Words in the letters
that you have given me,
...
When I divide my mother
from my grandmother
she is a digit without a set.
...
Likewise the smog coating the air
Solidified the solitude.
The blanket of her memories
...
No achievements
with the lie
are achievements,
no failure
...
An arrogant
for the teachers
A skeptic
For the community
...