Johann De Medina's is a voice made of gastric juices and games, tears, bloody traces, viscera, all in esdrújulas because sonority counts in poetry. They are fluids of his personal stamp, as well as of the country where nothing surprises us anymore, such as the fact that a dead person is left "in his blood, / in a puddle of the homeland", with which "we know more about the flies / than of his mother's crying". In Los Purgatorios que me inhabitan, the sense of humor is also present with which the poet asks to be veiled "in Gayoso / with the delux package, / well made up / hairstyle for posterity" or with which he reggaeton: "Sandunguéame the sorrows, / Give me life with your warmth, / with your bichota eyes", while in other verses echoes of César Vallejo appear: "What a pity! / I knew the name of God / and he doesn't remember my name". The scrutiny of washed-out experiences of our dense species also appears, such as buying "in the small talk" or packing a Choco Milk to feel better. The result is this discovery of estrangement, because there are no topics foreign to literary exploration, the author seems to point out, which is why it is essential to prepare the gaze to attend to everyday life in its disparate plot, in order to look at everything, hear everything and perhaps just maybe, then wonder: "Why will it be so easy to die / and so difficult to endure another day?".