This project is the result of a series of somber discussions that took place in Texas during the hot summer nights of 2010. We discussed the beauty of the Spanish language as the cicadas sang their bluesy tunes. There where some who maintained its hopelessness (paraphrasing Borges). Very well.

I leave you with some of the poems that, for a moment, left me a feeling of overall meaningfulness (and then, of course, “hopelessness”).

— Joseph Hart

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