'm a man without ambition,
With few friends, completely incapable of earning
life, with youth
That leaves him, a fugitive from some just doom.
Solitaire, badly dressed, what do you care?
At midnight I use a jar
Of hot white wine with cardamom seeds.
With my tattered gray robe and my old beret
I sit in the cold and write poems, Drawing
naked figures in the margins wrinkled
copulating with girls of sixteen,
Nymphomaniacs of my imagination. Kenneth Rexroth
(Anthology of Armando Roa Marcelo Pellegrini)
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