Elsa Padrón Serrano

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The Secret Life o...
Elsa Padrón Serrano is currently reading
by Sue Monk Kidd (Goodreads Author)
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The Wedding Season
Elsa Padrón Serrano is currently reading
by Katy Birchall (Goodreads Author)
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“O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.”
Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

Alessandro Baricco
“-Debo comunicarle una cosa muy importante, monsieur, todos damos asco. Somos todos maravillosos, y todos damos asco.”
Alessandro Baricco, Silk

Bo Burnham
“How fitting, she thought, that her words,
after tumbling in her head all day,
came out shrunken
like they were meant for a child.”
Bo Burnham

Bo Burnham
“Life is an open book.
Time is an oscillating fan.

I’ve had to learn to skim-read because
before I can read more than a few paragraphs,
That fucking airhead comes circling back,
blowing pages like a medieval prostitute.

The cool air feels nice, though.
Sometimes, when my head aches,
I let me eyes relax
and I enjoy the breeze as the words blur.”
Bo Burnham

Bo Burnham
“Our father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name,
hollow be thy promises
and shallow be thy shame.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
On a scale from on to ten,
our Lord is totally eleven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
toasted close to dawn,
and forgive us our trespasses
as we shoot those who trespass on our lawn,
and lead us not into temptation,
such as pot or porno,
but deliver us from evil
(if not delivery, then DiGiorno).”
Bo Burnham, Egghead; or, You Can't Survive on Ideas Alone

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