Ulleres/Glasses

Vet aquí, que d'un cop de colze, i per efecte, amb efecte i contra la meva voluntat ( against my will ), my glasses started flying, cosa que abans no havien fet mai, and, like in a terror/thriller/sitcom film, es va sentir un "cataclinc...clinc!!, then my godmother went to bed, i vaig saber que a la una de la matinada, hora GPM ( ni * del que vol dir això ) el vidre dret de les meves ulleres passed away having paid his bills both in Heaven and Hell. I raised Cain against my husband ( que no tenia cap culpa del que havia passat, it could've been in the street, as well ). Ara porto les del cotxe, que em donen un aire intel·lectual tipus Harry Potter sense la magic wand, i em pregunto how much will cost these renovation of eyesight. Poor me, as blind as a mole!!

I perquè us en feu a slight idea, us deixo amb un poema que es diu "EYES". Treieu-vos-les després de llegir-lo, i em dieu què en penseu.

When eyes are clumsy and nude
life is only a moving speck
of dust, a whispering wave,
a whirling sound of clothes,
a maze, a thunder, a bolt,
an ear in your mouth, a kiss,
a gentle hand on your right arm,
a clock, a striking pulse,
a moving dune that carries you along
and lets you rest on her even bond,
a lullaby, a sonnet, a waltz,
a magnificent chaos
beyond a tiny shore.