Portraits

From train to paintings

I travel cities blank

Each stop I see

seems suspicious for canvas

I have my doubts

yet no one notices

or no one cares

that I draw all that in secret

Handcrafted letters like a sculpture given to failure in the mid-century

Portraits ordered by ink

lips for ladies, hair for rotten men

People stuck together on the same tracks

Invisible

paint standing on my single piece of wood

drafting mental facts

that one thing art is meant to follow

Poema

Emilio Quiroz, Alumno de Licenciatura en Literatura y Creación Literaria