The Plague
Ship full of immigrants,
they wear flat caps and suits
with shining elbows
they stare at the quay
white handkerchiefs paint the emptiness.
On the platform a violinist plays
his red violin. I wear a black dress,
I have no hair. You cry and
I don’t know how to hug you
as if we travel through time
phantasms on deserted ships
that always run against submerged icebergs
just as to do so,
not to do so,
just because they can
because it can’t be without
nor can it be with it and
the violinist becomes wild
and they all start dancing
he winks his left eye at me
while back in the city rats
spread the plague
which unknowingly
we all bring to the ship.
Libros Libertad 