En Bustriazo, la gramática enloquece del todo. Ninguna normativa queda en pie.

…..like a roadside someone threw
brasura into, a ditch used up stuff ends down in,

“…Ochoa produced a poetry that shares some similarities with her more famous peers — especially for the personal tone — yet her verse is decidedly more oneiric and numinous, and less conversational.“

In a few words, she is an ideal data collector, and any misgivings the employer may have had about hiring a high school dropout have been put to rest.

Una mosca peluda con alas índigo puede perfectamente ser el centro de atención de las niñas que usan vestido rojo.

a day like any other

Érase una vez un muchacho llamado Jack…

Looking forward to something happening: Apparently not!

Beautiful and mysterious in the extreme, Chernicoff’s poems are messages from the borderline offered as testimony to the thrilling precariousness of our spiritual adventure.

Chus Pato’s new work is riverine, has the eyes and flight of quick unnoticed birds, the accuracy and mystery of a viaduct.

The first time I read in workshop, I fainted and broke my nose when I fell.

Conceptual poem

(‘equal to a gift’)

Our countertops shall be as spotless as spotlights are dramatic / on skim finished gallery walls.

As Marx writes, “It is a matter of confession, no more. To have its sins forgiven mankind has only to declare them to be what they really are.”

The weight of the past is felt in the most inconspicuous of circumstances.

Such is the constancy of the human heart: that what our suffering sets out to destroy, a painful longing begs us to preserve and reconstruct.

Others who still wish to rejoice —those who could not live without their share of happiness — gathered in a small cult of beauty.