Against the Robots

Fever draws the song of an androgynous bird,
paving the way for insatiable pleasure
that branches out and traverses the body of the earth.
Oh! the fruitless voyage around the islands
where women offer the traveler
the cool sway of their breasts
and the terrifying depth in the hollow of their hips!
The tender, smooth skin of the day
unravels like the shell of a foul fruit.
Fever draws the song of cesspools
where water carries away the filth.

With the poem Nocturne published in Les Éléments du désastre, Editions Grasset, I begin this day of homage to Alvaro Mutis, extraordinary storyteller, immense writer, formidable friend.