Nineteenth Hour
Over the chaos of sunlight I stand
with terrace flagstones refreshing my soles
as I search for reddish rays coloring
my fingers exploring her smiling lips
and the decrepit sun stays pegged
in the sky as old moon shuns
erotic purple orchids
and Death never leaves flesh
without shivers when the boyish
actor picks letters from the void
and words like hatred famine
war catastrophe pandemic manifest
bullshit concepts gifted to
nature as if necessary wise
Death shakes his gray head yet
He knows the antidote he needs
for this bitterness seeking
in front of someone’s vision
to trace the seed of envy
in the center of the left pupil He
unfolds the honeyed whisper of the
eastern breeze as I gaze at the holes
obliterating bombs that juxtapose on the face
of Earth and grace the teary eyes
with dances of light gaps
between pine needles
and in some valley of sound between
a first bomb and the next I observe
surgically-perfect missile results
vexed dusts emerge and cover
bones of maple trees
scatter human bits around
asking ‘why?’ and heavy-metal dust answers:
who cares?
Libros Libertad 