A man brooding on the earth is neither homosexual nor Latin American. Everything is open in a forest, everything is a wing swarming in a forest, a man is not homosexual; he broods, with the speed of the volley, of the waning light (nor Latin American). A man is not a man... he is the fixed idea, a spy in the camera, a wetland on the earth that puts a knocker without opening its eyes...
Jose Antonio Luer
Excerpts from "I Will Leave My Pulse in the Passages"
I see everything in the world through the veil of residual men, everything in the world is borrowed and decaled, my body leased to the excavation, holes that suffocate the sorrow, the blood bottled in the darkness, split, the TV on and an extractive ad, everything annoys me in the invented sound, that sound that wants to colonize me while the birds sleep on my purple shoulders…
Ignited in the world like a gardener's secret, with the lightness of straw, with the maneuverability of sawdust, these unwary men carry me in this illuminated storm. They unravel palpability; sexuality is sold in euros and dollars, drawn on coins when no one wanted it, like when the world drew its mountains upside down and no one saw.
I tell all parts of my body to be free from the market; propose, like the oak, to climb into the most confusing airs of the earth, those airs that push with echoes the padlocks… I should escape from the world, turn time around, give it an order in reverse, make the volcanoes retreat, stop being the lost dove in the row, abandon the pattern that they so well arranged
The spirits patrol tonight with barefoot feeling. They have taken from you what a heart can treasure in a memory. Some will die. They are dying now. I hear them in the phallic screams of alleyways that never find walls to lie down on.
Man who does not awaken Sleeps burdened with dry leaves on his back Like a decomposing animal under the autumn dew Feels the pulse of my forest in the restless Still Say still Do not expect a roar that shakes your taped walls and breaks them with the fury of the paths traced where the man who is neither homosexual nor Latin American burrows into your skin like a corpse into the earth