CAN CLOTA

CAN CLOTA That sneak into the school field. That chatting of the most suffocating intimacies, in an abandoned car, in the suburban steppe. Those haunted houses. That stick the file in the mud. That eighty-four collection. Those routes, through caves in the "forest", which was nothing more than a park. Those snakes and those rabbits, from the countryside. Those marbles. Those hand thunder. That constant gossip. EL SITIO DE MI RECREO {ANTONIO VEGA} TITI TIME (C).