poemes escrits a hores de classe

Poema escrit a l'hora de classe de no me'n recordo el què

I jo què sé

què representa
que sóc i haig de pensar

se'm en refot

no dieu que sóc tant jove?

sóc massa per això,

sóc massa poc per allò

doncs aquí 

"estic"

perduda adolescenment

i se'm en refot el que se'm diu

en el fons si que se'm en fot

pero tant fot

no sé res jo

oi?

jo no sé res

ni tu tampoc

i mai

Poema escrit a l'hora de classe d'història de la música tot escoltant una simfonia de Beethoven

Old music is beautiful 

The past is beautiful

Beethoven is beautiful

His father and his mum 

and his dog

and this school is beautiful

everybody is beautiful!

The rich bitches with their big cars

beautiful!

My city is beautiful

The fog is beautiful

The violins and trumpets and

simphonies and the evenings are beautiful.

The fucking allegreto is beautiful

The presto is even more beautiful

Your face is beautiful

Your hands are beyond beautiuful 

The way you play is beautiful

The happinness of this allegro con brio is beautiful

And so is my tea

The late afternoon beautiful irish tea

The rain is beautiful!

The piano is beautiful.

The damn cresciendo is unbelievably beautiful!

Beautiful Pollock!

Beautiful Shakespeare!

Beautiful Bukoskwi!

Beautiful Ginsberg!

Beautiful my mum and my dad and my cat and my dog.

Beautiful this song!

The world is unbelievably and sadly fucked but beautiful.

We are 

so fucking

beautiful. 






_

PD. disculpeu-me per les faltes.
de fet, no.
faig faltes perquè sóc sincera.
no m'agraden les faltes en tot cas. gens.