Cuando la estructura tradicional del lenguaje es incapaz de contar

Autoretrato-cummings

"my sweet old etcetera" by e.e.cummings

my sweet old etcetera
aunt lucy during the recent

war could and what

is more did tell you just

what everybody was fighting

for

my sister

isabel created hundreds

(and

hundreds) of socks not to

mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers

etcetera wristers etcetera, my

mother hoper that

I would die etcetera

bravely of course my father used

to became hoarse talking about how it was

a privilege and if only he

could meanwhile my

self etcetera lay quietly

in the deep mud et

cetera

(dreaming,

et

cetera, of

Your smile

eyes knees and of your Etcetera)