Readjustment
“Milen Demontzo, Zero Lemotzoglou” This was the signal and second signal of that year. Let it be so, the forgers could see it, and so could the pimps and rough neo-Babylonians, again in their lives, smart eyes. Flowery breasts of girls under traditional bras, strange memories of tears and moans, alabaster candelabras, bygone cascades of flowers (narcissuses), crystal carafes, exquisite, some with milk, others with sperm, or blood, offerings to the memory of old and new surrealists. And the passion remained a passion. And the poet is always ready, arms ready, to tell the truth, and to console. And the men from Mani were there, the ancient rocks too, and the guitars the bridges, the glasses and the rivers to the end, to the moment when everything ended. The band.
Libros Libertad 