9 de febrero de 2008. Estoy en el paro, cobrando del señor estado mi bien merecido subsidio. De vez en cuando tendré que ir al M 'n M a echar una firmita, aunque como dice Carol Ann Duffy "they don't appreciate my autograph" (Education for Leisure, en Standing Female Nude, 1985). Yo solo rezo por no recibir ninguna oferta de trabajo ni tener que moverme de casita. Tengo otras cosas entre manos y algún que otro barco que abordar, chiamalo tesi si vuoi...
Y ahora algunos versos de otoño del 2005, escritos en Oxford. Muy lejos. No tengo nada que ver con aquel tipo y la última vez que estuve allí, nada me decía mi Jericho Café. ¿Nostalgia? No. Recuerdo, algo mitificado, pero recuerdo.
I’ve just changed the sign,
Open, says now.
Last night was long,
The day hard.
I tried to see the stars since my window
But the sky was cloudy.
Curled up, I looked for your warmth,
Something that remains in myself,
Which I can remember.
No. My torso was cold
And I had forgotten your hand’s touch.
Shrunk, I waited,
Counting the seconds,
While I saw pass the garbage truck
And two drunkards staggering.
Now the day starts,
The sky opens
While I turn on the coffeemaker.
I adore the beginning, these first minutes,
Alone, behind the bar.
Sun is shining,
It seems so close,
We could touch it,
To let embrace us,
We could kiss under its light.
But you don’t appear,
You didn’t appear,
And I keep on curled up.
The first customer has arrived.
Black suit,
Worried look.
He makes me a signal
With his freckly chin,
Caffe Latte, a chocolate muffin and a little of silence.
