Monday, March 07, 2005

Figando Boronono

if when my wife is sleeping
and i am awake
and there is this amusing sound coming from my belly
a trumpet, an accordeon, a twelve string guitar and two airplanes
and there is nothing you could do with words
besides my computer has died and im burried in loneliness
thinking about where it's gona take place, the next war
i have spent my entire life figando borononó
I'm not sure i have had enough
figando borononó
i've been in all 5 continents figando borononó
i have been high and low figando borononó
i am a natural
even during wartime
i think i was conceived, i think i was born figando borononó
my nephews are now drowning in a pool
figando borononó
i change my tv set and my walt whitman coleccion for a fresh ration of borononó
when I die please don't drop me off at heavens gate
I have never seen saint peter figando borononó

5 comments:

gisellita® said...

I've heard it before...from your lips..

I was so drunk that night...and so happy of being drunk.

Take me to Heaven's Gate, Baby
let me have some words with San Peter...
que me lo diga a mí...ese figa, caballo...
te lo digo yo.

muack, love u, "tira peo-maremoto"

Diego said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Diego said...

Last night I dreamt of Balaguer burning in hell and figando boronono!!!!!

Muy ápero Jairo...

blogworkorange said...

William Carlos Williams would be proud. Ete poema tiene un ritmo del carajo.

anonimoa said...

te falta la receta, para la comunidad, egoist
¿boronono en su tinta?