UNTIL SAN ANTON PASCUAS SON

JANUARY MONTH FASTO AND TOMORROW SAN ANTÓN THAT UNTIL THAT DAY EASTER ARE January and February are festive months They open the door of the year And tomorrow San Antón what is Easter? I walk among my tumbles and calves A happy retiree In today's Spain Paddling against tide Shaking off the catalexies of the radio war parts The virus is a worm That lacks original epistaxis They treat us like mules These gentlemen of the terror of the millennium Know how many however That above is God I get lost between its lines Crooked looking for reason and unreason Praying like the good jew Fearful of the lord Albricias to life Fear not That forgiveness comes from him I am brooding among my bells and whistles Unpublished texts Large paragraphs My soul is like a centon Epitome of many faces They are the faces of God I search among my cimelios The word that warns and strengthens The hidden secret of Creation A certain loxodromia leads me to the portulan Leading me on course Constant I always glimpse the dizzy needle And to the navigation charts Of sayings I have a collection Printed on guadamecí pastes I have abominaries for exorcisms Anaforarios to recite the canon Well I believe in prayer There are also epularies with recipes Cooking that the Romans wrote The aphoristic teachings From my breviary they make men Cautious, advised and better Some of my bodies They went to the bibliopega And they came back safe and sound To last long among the mold And the moths And the dust of the kidnapped mezzanines They are letters to immortality That put us in charge of murderers Petulant envious and gregarious Enemies of Excellence Fools conspire There in that They will break their heads Against the presidium Of the wise I write to dominate my low passions With high thoughts That give me strength I sometimes say what I don't think and I make many believe in what i don't believe