#cinosargo ediciones

[idewerewolf]

[idewerewolf]

[idewerewolf]

that’s what death is like: an anti-gravity jump, slam dunking the ball in the basket, landing firmly on the waxed wood smooth as the moon’s surface and looking out at the empty stands

it’s like this: retiring, and yet continuing to practice as if the next game were only a few minutes away by private jet

  *

  the arc, the precise distance, the force the ball in hand and control of the moment

as if nothing else existed no hunger or orphans or guilt that’s how one has to give it one’s all

love is a discipline just like basketball and a game of basketball has the same structure as life

one must love while there’s still time as if nothing else matters

that’s how i’ve always played and when my mates caught on they carved tunnels in the air so i could pass them my master play

  *

  Think about this: a swarm of wasps devouring a half-decomposed Bengal tiger

a confrontation of two symmetries

the synthesis of the wasp with the tiger in its digestive system

is a kind of borrowing or doubling, a negotiation and plasticity of matter

no better example occurs to me

something like that happens when you wear the bull of your Chicago Bulls shirt

when the pores of your hands touch the pores of the ball

when the spring of your muscles lifts you up off the ground and mixes you with the air

[idewerewolf]

[idewerewolf]

Tres poemas de YAKUZA en Transtierros