it is this

At each port there is a piece of eternity

Who does not cry gun

To exist is to put drops in dáblios

Burials are plantations files

Death does not send e-mail

Addresses are manure

Death is a deceleration of particles

I was struck by the existence

Whoever is not born stillborn

The land is landfill space, where all the worms are deposited

I am a foreigner in my own body

Silences accomplices have own generator

Collaborate with the authorities: commit a perfect crime