YOU SHOULD, AGAIN, YOU SHOULD
You should,
Again, you should
Go back to the days of your childhood,
Perhaps the one
When little dogs fell
Looking for death
And your young maiden aunt kept the new born babes
In a shopping basket.
Your childhood memories won’t come back,
There are stages
That don’t want to travel.
There they are, your old dog
Your hen, three years old,
And the hat that the Negress Elisa gave you
When you were seven.
There is no life, only
The empty earth of adobe.
Everything is vague:
The years, your growing body
The birth if those ideas that hound you.
You should,
Again, you should
Remember the scent of your school mistress.
But wat difference does this make now?