because under normal circumstances
I have grown up
and I became an adult during the crisis years
my poetry is a poetry
of the crisis
in which I have burst open and write
with what remains
the mess I don’t clean up
letting it grow warm
in my hands, my innards
and the network
that gets overheated
showing the not exactly subtle reality
of someone
who is twenty-seven in 2015
and doesn’t add up to the description of his reality