poem_the good boy

The Good Boy
Julio Cortázar

I’ll never learn how to take off my shoes and let the city

bite my feet

I won’t get drunk under bridges, I won’t make mistakes

of style.

I accept this destiny of ironed shirts,

I get to the movies on time, I give up my seat to old ladies.

Extended derangement of the senses make me sick, I prefer

toothpaste and towels. I have my vaccinations.

Look at this lousy lover, incapable of jumping into a


to catch you a little red fish

in front of the outraged eyes of cops and nannies.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: