Someday I will not be nothing.
leather
Much as little poet. But that could be said of many other poets. From Lois Pereiro those photos we are cosmopolitan village, traveled with languages \u200b\u200bmore or less, always sad, weary. With chronic sadness recovering from amnesia, and it can not get rid of them or rehearsing a quinqui face in the mirror. In photos, Pereiro, as an adult, is about to faint punk who suffers from stomach. After the man is sick, sick doubly, triply sick. Will the low-grade fever and a curse urbanite Galician literature, so about teachers and women returning from walking the dog. Pereiro said, "O problem Galician literature provides a literature é que é iso too professorial and coa junction prevents life. [1996 ] True Pereiro, we all had teachers who were the best novelists and poets from Galicia. And from them comes a time and silence literature, walks through the woods looking for mushrooms and gentlemen with a magnifying glass looking at a cricket. Also see a civil war that no one understands it, as told by Juan Goytisolo before going to the desert. Lacked urgency, humiliation (so important that burning), and perhaps veins. The veins Pereiro gets. His poetry brings us all the trappings of a mid-afternoon rumpled sheets, lyric hangover of almost anything. They are also hand gestures of smoking, see, poems and rescued from a heap of verses cursed. These books, their own, with large spaces and quotes in German. Verses and fled, elusive, a little unpresentable, which mixes the infinite life with the remains of a bad night. But that is for taste. Very different in any case a professional desire badness as Leopoldo M. Panero to find Satan in a fresh shit over and over again. Well, whatever. We're not going to make now analyze the poetry of this man. I would have preferred to a mirror and daily Pereiro, eye and daily dry type was. What is left are poets. A language is built into prose. Poetry is a luxury.
Pereiro In any case gives us the image of the poet junkie all the literature you need, and Galicia was not going to be less. Moreover, the Galician literature had (or has) need even more cursed than any other, because everyone here has been very healthy and everybody always has been a good eater. We have a sorrowful poetry and dizzy before meals and a nap and suicide poetry after meals, because after lunch is given to the poet's suicide immediately, although ends at the end taking a nap, to digest the cooked.
This year Galician Literature Day is dedicated to Lois Pereiro. The Real Academia Galega strip the house through the window. But not because Pereiro is a famous and still the day before the funeral. Pereiro is more than one work, a biography, or rather, a fotobiografía . Pereiro's great work is his body. The report that collects from the child impatient and angry by running out of the picture to climb trees to the adult patient and transparent x-ray itself, and that more excited than any of its verses. Poetry was "a Xeito of fuxir da barbarism." But barbarism took him ahead.
