March 2012
26 posts
1 tag
Bluebird by Charles Bukowski
there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not going to let anybody see you. there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he’s in there. there’s a bluebird in my...
3 tags
2 tags
2 tags
2 tags
2 tags
February 2012
22 posts
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
“Somos nuestra memoria, somos ese quimérico museo de formas inconstantes, ese...”
2 tags
2 tags
3 tags
4 tags
3 tags
2 tags
1 tag
2 tags
2 tags
2 tags
2 tags
