José Enrique García, from the penultimate spelling, And, the improbable escape and other objects

That the agony, fixed, affiliated with the penultimate spelling of the alphabet, ANDas an early sign of death, “Reach, feel, feel”little or nothing would matter, in the homonymous poem ANDbecause the grim reaper, imperceptible, attached to the last grapheme of the alphabet, Z, as the definitive sign of your days, will arrive despite the precautions we could take. In fact, the original instructions or forces, lost, will not be able to postpone this fleeting transit that delays us, or even prevent it, “the gods…do not give up their job of persecuting human creatures”, or, in short, guarantee the complexity and ordering of the matter that penetrated life.

The primordial air that, suddenly, at some point will leave without saying goodbye to the initial conditions that existed in your body, suffocating, in a stealthy, frigid, mourning breath, the extraordinary matter and flowering of biological or divine evolution, “body that ends suddenly / in definitive air, under the excessive and successive forces of the gods in charge of mercilessly amputating your outbursts, “Palpitations/groans”, consubstantial of the blood, “now serene”, reconciled with the balanced, predestined routine of dying.

And it is that Jose Enrique Garciain its intimate, metaphorical alphabet, is assigned to the penultimate step, ANDexposing yourself, in one step and three steps, to the prescribed chance of your last step on the nebulous ravine of the Z, “Who ignores this destiny?” emblem, conclusive, of your fall from the exact line of the uterine piece or birth, “Where to untie this knot of origin?”by force, trapped, in a minimal glossary of rest, constrictions, depositions and imbalances parallel to the inaugural conditions of your destiny.

In the end, looking for the dazzling beginning of time, “men and women”, we ourselves arrive at the dark, overwhelming, unpostponable era of the infamous primer, of the TO until the Z, “in a moment of dreams”, either “when the imagination takes us away from ourselves,” spread in a fragmentary way, dreams and chimeras, throughout the cosmos in an allegorical and malevolent trick of that conclusive syllabary, pauses, errors and touch-ups, finite and ordinary.

AND

Reach, feel, feel

a body that ends suddenly

in definitive air.

palpitations,

whining

the natural pushing of blood

now serene.

However, it is still an offering

of gods who do not give up in their office

to persecute human creatures.

Who ignores this destiny?

Where to untie that knot of origin?

We, men and women,

maybe it is in us

in a moment of sleep,

or when the imagination takes us away from ourselves.

Luis Ernesto Mejía at Acento.com.do