MID OCTOBER

September notes forgotten at the feet of a new October

Who would have thought that this October is now a middle-aged man?

I always say that storing it is silly because even when stored it rots

like expired peas eternally confined in rusty cans

Look, I'm not yet talking about the symptoms of a commercial and early Christmas

Save your strength for November, which will arrive with plastic reindeer and Styrofoam snow

leave it to the empty-eyed dead whose poetry was lost when they stripped themselves of

their own colors to sadly go with the flow

incredulous prayers of hope rise for the second fortnight

I, like you and others, are always trying to connect with something that seems to dwell above the moon

and, generally, we wake up sad because nothing has changed since that unclassifiable moment of faith and resistance

Maybe now is later, out of sight, something that will come neither too late nor too soon

Today, the fourteenth, I feel the cold wind of South America's confusing spring

trying to understand that suddenly life is a scenery and the wind is just an electric fan

pinch me

I need to know that I've grown up and it's not okay to have so many unresolved issues in the heart of a grown-up man