has to be a better life,
but not here.
ramshackle suburban parks where the metal gravel bites, and children
good bite dust. Noon
gray and open bars at school:
anoraks out loud
the bad girls in a very fine rain is not all rain. Once
noise did you follow the life now in the middle of your parents, there is no heaven
to break your fists
childish white. Again
you had fear,
but not even that, now you
brick and bottle-green awnings.
Nothing is all that is in the periphery,
everything is unfinished, poorly drawn,
everything is half done or sleep in ruins.
Sclerosis in the veins of life,
while playing with plastic bags
idle wind, dance silence.
The suburbs is not a physical place but a state
soul when the soul no longer exists
as everyone knows
in the gravel.
(Sara Herranz said it much better with your dibujin above. Thank you)
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