This is a piece of text I read on Friday in the reading of the Quintet, the Pachamama. Text which, in turn, is a fragment of (Rafael), a novel that moves swiftly toward its end, and shown on a Friday semi dressed in the usual monthly party narrative in vivo.
Street In Boulogne Sur Mer, when it begins later today, while Rafael advances
immersed in football alone,
Marina is followed by a bit left,
Dad opens the lock that protects your kosher food store, Uncle Ab
prepared to share coffee with the girl while reading the newspaper;
street moisture Boulogne Sur Mer partial highlights the biographies of each perfume spot to complete the total odor quietly writing a universal story every second.
The ancient Asia soybean combusts and sister with the cilantro, secretion
secret that America is in the delicate density of your key genealogical ginger;
is absorbed into the fat of a beef steak sizzling on the amount drawn by the legislation governing the annual butchered calves, and the exact calculation and cyclical takes life, it is odor and stain spreads,
where the leek, celery, onion, carrots and peppers as piedrazos
travel, or like birds in a tailspin
from five continents to merge into a concept transverse aromatic, harmonious, that contains everything, everything means
accumulation,
not leave out the horseradish and beets osobuco shredded meat from stew and
that becomes dense in Eastern Europe,
and lives in the wake of mint and sesame Sephardim who live in a war, war as the only carnal lovers,
with yogurt when becomes salty, milky and spicy chickpea
and invents its fragrance to the ridiculous when you grind your flesh and mass
detonates achieved in each smell odors by themselves and friends,
and world history fits into the biography:
the sweat is carrying objects
men and women who scrub,
called when white sweat with terror or
nerve and emerges from under the arms and joints
students and traders uncertain;
breath that melts just woken up in a puff of nicotine yellow, green
a marijuana filled the mouth of the sitting, sweat crystal
cyclist and alcohol
acid in a burp back prisoners of yesterday and secretions
bulking sheets, and semen dripping rebellious pubescent
pants and identifies the boiling cauliflower Girls,
and skirts and pants,
and under the long beards and sideburns of glasses and low smoke collective fault of the party of humanity underground sewers, and every body, garlic, immeasurable and voluptuous universal: fried, caramelized, just bitten, lines and refines insignificant gram breath with each balloon inflates eternal history.
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