Temporary Solution
The fire was covered over the serious, the great, the dark.
You still wear the wet raincoat, go inside the kitchen,
uncover the pot, and the steam fogs up the lips of the
statue. You pretend to smell, you pretend to care, truly
you do.
Ah, the long moves; the man pretending to limp, so that
he could hide the other wound. Hey, hey, he had yelled,
awake at midnight. “A horse, a horse”, he yelled in the
deserted place and over the tents. “One red horse”, he
heard his voice and yelled again. The soldiers didn’t
wake up only the blind man reached me; we pulled a
little away, we secured the tule peplum on the two
cypresses, and we urinated.
Libros Libertad 