Between Cultures
All my favorite poets are dead
Pero sus poemas los leo en el atardecer
And they come alive again.
Soy sus Lazaros; los revivo, y viven en mi vida, en este presente.
I want to be like them,
O ser como el pajaro, como las nubes blancas. Pure. Whole. White.
I asked Federico if we could work together on a masterpiece, but he said
No se si pueda, me voy a Nueva York. Perhaps on your return we’ll conversate on ars poetica or post modern art.
Perhaps
Pero no se si pueda.
Regreso a mi cuaderno y bajo la Luna escribo. A Veces abro el libro de Federico.
He helps me create my personal masterpiece, just like he said one day he would.
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