Oh forgive us

Break the links of the chain
break off pieces of

my brittle self, hand them out on the street
like fliers no one wants

bits of a stranger, loveless but passionate
yeah, that's a contradiction...

what are you gonna do?

i'll tell you what i will.

i'll follow you around, through cigarette smog and
clean, clean plain.

i'll haunt you like the paradoxical
poeta en nueva york

who never had children
but he's still got me.

i found him skewered on skylines, still bleeding
from the birth of el rey de harlem

who never gave him anything
but blank verse.

so whatcha gonna do now, Federico?

gonna just lie there, breathing
pollen from stars?

you wish you never heard it and
i wish i never felt it, but

the question remains, Federico.

what
are you
going
to do?