An indescribable devilish cut up conspiracy is spread
on the roads: slogans, baby strollers
“the uprising will start at midnight”, one said “and that
way we could tell the time”
and he remembered his despair when he was an ephebe
and didn’t have a wristwatch —
later on, during the Crusades, he opened a small
pension in the name of Jesus Christ, of course, no one
could go near him when he was drunk and detestable
when he cried like the woman who washes herself from
fear of pregnancy. Then the long line of poor people at
the cemetery entrance
the confection in their dark bags created a black mush
like Acheron. They all passed. Then I sat and waited.
What’s the meaning of five or twelve centuries
in front of the childish drawer with the distant secret?
The couple who died from gas inhalation were
quickly taken to the morgue
where the interrogation started, with traces of gas on
their closed eyelids, “where are you going?” “To
the balcony”, the woman said
the jurors calligraphically designed on walls and
only the old bailiff was finishing the postscript
when finally the dead couple walked out of
the morgue as the gangrene had already consumed
half of the city
“It’ll rain” the woman said and they tried to find
shelter under the stoa
truly forever thoughtful.
Sometimes I consider helping the old woman who
goes out dragging an empty plate behind her
but, ultimately, I prefer to blow the dust off my lapels
or to gather some wild vegetables
so that we won’t mention the original sin.
Perhaps for this the icons turned holy since they can’t
escape.
Indeed, one night I heard Maria’s voice “here I am”
she said to me
“then everything went well”, I said to her emotionally
since a beautiful dream was coming out of the wall onto
which I had leaned in the deserted road;
then, when I returned home, I found Maria complaining
as she squeezed the mop;
I couldn’t take it anymore: I choked her hastily and since
then I’ve lived with the other;
to make the long story short everything reminded us
of Christmas or better the rails of the train onto which
two crazy men sat like birds
and you, my good old friends, loaded on lorries from
before dawn
lost to your own hand even if the newspapers reported
you as executed.
I then ordered the devil to hold the candlestick, I buried
the mirror too so I couldn’t remember and fell asleep
for a thousand years.
The kiosk at the corner reminded me of my sweet
fat mother.
Libros Libertad 