Monday, October 31, 2016

la lucha / the struggle

la lucha es siempre distinta
the struggle is always different

la que el asesino ve
the one the murderer sees

la que no tiene descripción
the one without description

que escala la pared
that climbs the wall

la que se esconde en la lluvia
the one that hides in the rain

de algún lugar lejano
of a distant place

y después descansa
and then rests

por donde jugaran los niños cinco días después
where the children will play five days later

está en el olfato
it’s in the smell

en las  hierbas quemadas
of burnt weeds

se retuerce en el cuerpo ambulante
it twists within the body-stroll

con el sol de respaldo
with the sun in the background

en  un rostro de octubre
in the face of October

de noviembre
of November

la lucha
the struggle

Sunday, October 23, 2016

From this labyrinth...

From this labyrinth of teeth and hands

I rest a bit
to remember...

1993 when I was a boy
   and I'd just live
     run at the park
feed green tortillas and expired bread to the ducks
       in small pieces
            just like mom
                        near the lake-shoreline


      how we are actors
      in this experiment
      that makes us think of freedom with Coca-Cola...

      There is no other way
      to get it
      if not through the imaginary ...


          I can be destroyed

          I can be fed to the machine
                   as it can go...
                                         it will go...

the world keeps pulling at the edges...