Aperçus Quarterly 2.1

Buenos AiresThe day opened its first actwith a symphony of wild dogsat the edge of towntearing the carcassof a morning already old.One of the dogs was methe other was youcriminals without permission andwithout a plantaking our catharsis early.Slowly the grass evaporatedin white lines beneath usthe moon behind the moontraced its evacuation through catalpa,slowly the primordial circleabandoned all its centersdancers discreetly swiveledtheir mirrors toward the sea,fire was my umbrella,your business was circumference,let’s face it we were sexy,it made the weather nervous.27