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I would only say “What the fuck?” — in the meaningBeyond the Freudian “id”. Do we make or do we destroy?Time will tell. What shall burn? What shall drawn?What shall fly? What shall be buried deep?What shall we blur? What shall we complete?What shall blow up? What shall we… leave as it is?Nothing is clear. Make some sense of it. Please.
Danna Z
Mario López-Goicoechea
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Great poem. Thanks for sharing.
London-based, Cuban writer. Author of “Cuban, Immigrant, and Londoner” https://uk.bookshop.org/a/6886/9781528994293 https://acubaninlondon.medium.com/membership
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