Endless Poetry Page #2

art above all else.

Carmen!

I bring you a new friend.

Good evening, Ricardo.

- I do not want to disturb.

- But no, darling,

an artist can enter

here at any time.

Vernica!

Ricardo!

Who are you bringing us, Ricardo?

It's Alejandro.

A sublime soul, a future great artist.

Let's see.

Good! You have a beautiful skeleton.

You would make a good model.

What is your art, Alejandro?

I write poems.

You know one by heart?

No.

But you're a poet. Improvise!

You cut the tree. You can.

"The Being that dwells in me is consumed," "flaming from dreams." Come, Alejandro. = = Look! = = Antique hero, he cut his family tree. It is a wonderful boy.

A boy or a girl?

It is a unique being.

It is so beautiful!

Yes, but this beautiful being

is a man, Ricardo. A man!

I'm wrong or is

that what I think?

That's right.

That's right?

That's right?

Yes, it's true.

But this boy is still innocent.

Do not make him believe that

your love is friendship.

I would like to live without a mask.

But I am the son of Naum.

I have to become an architect,

get married, have children...

Ose, Ricardo!

The scandal would kill my father.

Remove your mask.

Ose.

Dare!

Ose, Ricardo!

Dare!

Ose, Ricardo!

Yes.

Yes.

Thank you.

Punto!

Hi, you.

Between, Ricardo.

You do not bother me.

Do you like it here?

Thanks to you, I have

never been so happy.

I could write quiet. Listening:

"I do not fear my shadow, my goal is to return to what I have always been." That is beautiful. summer".

Tell me, did you ever have sex?

No, never.

And you masturbate?

Yes.

And you think of men, or women?

To women, of course.

Me, I think of men.

To beautiful men like you.

Can I tell you something?

You like me.

In fact, I love you.

Sorry, Ricardo.

Moi...

I'm not like that.

That's what I feared.

More...

we can be friends.

Impossible.

You should hide my erections.

Then there is no solution.

Farewell, Alejandro.

We will never see each other again.

I'm sorry.

You would give me

a kiss, remember?

I owe you so much.

Agree.

Did you feel anything?

Nothing.

I did not feel anything!

I'm not fagot.

I told you, papa!

I felt free.

I grew up.

Standing, poet!

Arise!

I've been up a long time.

Come and meet your brothers.

What brothers?

Come on. Follow me.

You will meet Cana and

Gordo, symbiotic dancers.

Alberto Rubio, supra-tenor.

Gustavo Becerra, ultra-pianist.

Your brother Hugo Marn, poly-painter.

This miracle we call chance,

sent us this poet:

Alejandro Jodorowsky.

Let us welcome him!

We will not let you go

until you say a poem.

"To be neither one nor the other.

" To lose one and a thousand skins,

"consume the superfluous

in a feast of flames;

"be carried away by the

wind in a swarm of petals."

Poet!

I sold my devil to the soul!

Then, Alejandro,

Who is this puppet?

You made me read the

Odes, of Pablo Neruda,

and the Antipoemes,

of Nicanor Parra.

It's Parra that I prefer.

It is not a supreme

God, like Neruda.

It is a human being,

with sublime weaknesses.

I have the honor to present you

a great poet:
Nicanor Parra!

"For many years, I was condemned

to worship a despicable woman

"to work day and night,

" to feed and clothe her,

"to commit various larcenies

" in the light of the moon.

"I flew for her,

" under pain of being discredited

"to his fascinating eyes."

Leave me alone!

It was very fun.

Take this money.

Why Money?

I have everything I need here.

But here you will not find a muse

like The Viper of Nicanor Parra.

Go to Caf Iris.

Poets and muses meet

there every night.

You may encounter yours here.

A beer, please.

Thank you.

You all are nothing!

My two liters!

Do you know this woman?

This is Stella Daz, a poet.

Prudence, young man.

You all are nothing!

Stop!

Thank you.

Yes. I follow you.

Hit me.

Open your eyes.

They say you write poems.

Me too, I write.

Could I have the

honor to read them?

Only my poems interest you?

Not my ass and my breasts?

No, it's that...

I'm not interested...

Show me your sex.

- My sex?

- Your sex.

- Here in the street?

- Now.

You are a virgin.

You are pure, like a

romantic pierrot.

Come on.

Here you are, your portrait.

I love you.

I need you.

I am yours.

You will illuminate my way

with a fiery butterfly.

Thank you.

"The woman who loved the doves like a virgin in ecstasy, at night, suckled the lilies with her sleeping bosom. "dreaming leaning against the wall"

"and everything seemed beautiful, without being so." It's great! Yes, everything looks beautiful. This place is magic! Wake up, sir = = Mademoiselle!

Let's dance!

That's enough, let's go.

Farewell!

Here is the pension where I live.

Now I'll bite you.

Do you want to see if I'm willing to

sacrifice a piece of ear to get you?

I sacrifice myself.

And sh*t!

Get out of here, get out!

Get out of here, sh*t!

Did not you like my devil?

You have talent, my boy.

We'll get along.

Now go to bed.

Go away!

Go, I'll find you tomorrow.

At midnight, at the Caf Iris.

Go away.

At midnight, at the Caf Iris.

Goodbye!

A beer, please.

Another.

Another one.

Let this Nicanor Parra be your master!

You should not go with the...

vulgar lousy like that.

If you read his great poem La

Viper, you will see your portrait.

Goodbye forever!

You want to break my mouth?

I take care of it myself!

I'm much more than that.

I am Nicanor Parra.

And the one that inspired

my poem, La Viper,

this is Stella.

I give it to you.

I'm sure you have a knife.

Give it to me.

This is to prune the pen

with which I write.

Shut up.

A poet does not have to justify himself.

What's your name?

Alejandro.

We will not be separated.

We will sleep by day

and live by night.

I will write by scratching

the skin of your back.

Through the pain, you

will understand my poems.

I'm still a virgin.

We will do everything

except penetration.

I keep my hymen for the man

with the divine forehead

who will descend from the mountains.

You will feed me.

I will allow you to

drink my saliva.

From now on

whenever we walk together,

I will keep your

secret parts grabbed.

Sit down.

Remove your shoes.

It's a pension for retirees,

they sleep until late.

They grumble if a sound wakes them up.

Orpheus, in the den of death,

must not see naked his beloved.

Your coat...

Your skirt...

Your shirt...

Your corsage...

My love wanders in the streets

I do not know when it will return

Will it return for Easter

or for the Trinity?

Sara.

Come on.

The Past Trinity

my love does not return anymore

His mother who is waiting for her

starts to sob

Everyone humiliates me.

I wanted so much to

have a son doctor.

Calm down, Jaime.

My heart tells me that

Alejandrito will come back.

That's all we have left to eat.

Now you have to feed me.

You'll be able to?

I can.

As Nicanor Parra says:

"I will commit a small

larceny in the moonlight."

Alejandrito?

It's you?

Yes, Dad.

That's good. We were waiting for you.

Alejandrito

Go to bed, sleep well

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