For Jule Goikoetxea, humanity is a sophistication to stand upright on the nonsense. Unable to follow the straight line, he has written a compact, upholstered book, with projectiles that point more to the head than to the heart. He has neglected known topics and landscapes and has written vital and passionate poetry. It has risked, and I have conceptually found some liberating reflections of this Tractatus to be innovative. Sometimes it gives the impression of a logical and philosophical treaty built with the resources of poetry, pessimistic in the area but not giving up. Tractatus has also been a way of understanding the void left by the death of his father and by the love that has never disappeared, and that has been kindly transmitted to Tomás Goikoetxea.

Tractatus is also a way of celebrating the privilege of writing – of living – and of asking profound questions. What if I don't follow the usual paths? What if I do something different? What if the new ethics needs a new aesthetic to properly express ourselves? As a literary vengeance against comfort and anesthesia, the topic has no place in the book: “It is violence/ symbolic order/ father.// It is the mother/symbolic order/violence”.

Tractatus is a liberation without right hand, without academia without patriarchy, without patriarchy without matriarchy. It is a book that grows, enriching itself with travel, sex and the bittersweet taste of conscious and militant affectivity. This semi-encrypted poetry will take you to remote places, with a style that prefers, without simplism, to say things directly, not directly, but spirally and enrossed in itself.

The poet has chosen the most direct means of altering the order and making a complaint. This mode of poetry of heavy words and high concepts has a rhythm similar to that of the barking. Short lines loaded with metaphysics predominate. However, a light text cannot be achieved with these heavy materials, and the experiment gets a little complicated, in the area it gets cold. That doesn't mean you don't regain pearls from time to time, black and beautiful. “I also have a glacier/colonized as intelligence/ which has decided to merge after thousands of years.” In any case, some pieces of the rich puzzle remain hidden, hurtful, so as not to risk beyond the purely aesthetic and swollen words and to use a simpler vocabulary, more conventional if you like.