(Another little letters my thirty years ago)
art patrons must have your father
Maecenas Maecenas
your grandmother,
patron patron status of the system;
patron, though they be
the, the, the last supper. All art requires
cordial backing,
Juan Bautista in the Sea of \u200b\u200bGalilee,
Juan Bautista in the Sargasso Sea;
but something to baptize you! Sir
, And if Mrs
much more necessary.
lofty Lords opening the door to today
secretary,
morning executor, heir insurance
,
"future artist?.
And this, only this
is called "having school,"
say that we see,
we have followed the footsteps of someone with such fidelity
both ugly dog,
unless you're dog .
Art, all art, must
patrons. Maecenas
I commas
but patrons.
And that is not mecenezgueado
not baptism,
and baptizes
not have closed the door of heaven.
who does not is mecenezgueado:
which does not inherit.
who never had a penny to his,
therefore without patrons, mecom,
fasting will not be art, his art, as
where is it?
say that we have followed the footsteps of someone
and this is called having school ....
When I have not nor do I have, or had,
desert in which to rest your head, for my deserts
always been uncomfortable
to the lack of pillows dunes.
Of course, we have the lungs of patients
dust of centuries,
to scream filled with sand abrasive
by breathing.
There was not a desert
dwell in you.
Having to live this brothel
rejected to give for withdrawal.
My work was done to anyone
for shadows.
And the light was in darkness and darkness
rejected it, despite
Will Light,
what other stronger?
For neither patron nor mecom;
but are dark.
I am in the desert
as Cezanne in their forests ...
There is a light, I see a light
shedding to kiss your lips
in the dark ...
But this was another of my songs. I see your body
sacred.
Word. Word
communicant Palabramándote
roared-te-me calling So without patrons
so no calls
not forget to call me.
I to call me.
I never forget when he was called
and there in the Andes
burned more without burning fire
not consumed me,
revived.
Mecenezgueada from that point and I've got me thinking what
desolate
about baptism and there was no fire. Arda
then burn. I just see blood
roses snow deflowered my soul 
Eyes
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