I’ll let you know when I’m dead
Since I haven’t heard from you in a while
Busy, as you are, with your newfound love
Riding high on your accomplishments
And your fat pockets
How can you forget that
I imagine you’re too busy to notice
Other
Me, well
Almost everything around
Is rubble bones and blood
I’ll be joining the pile soon
To be sure
Nourished in heaven with manna
Not available to collective me
Here while alive
I thought about calling you
To see how you are
I’m not the only one suffering
Everyone in their own way
Silent or otherwise
Bombs or no bombs
Food or no food
Love or no love
To be true
Because my heart is bigger than yours
And I can only feel
sorrow for your shallow
But can not justify
You your
Ignorant violence
So we live together
In silence
I am dreaming.
In the place where only love exists
Where the flag is blank
Hand-holding is the most common means of communication
The warmth and empathetic vibrations of life
Pulsating between two
In larger groups, forming chains and closed loops
That pulls people toward
The effects are magnified and amplified
And the motion becomes a dance
A movement taking place between people
Among communities, amid tribes
The movement of a peoples
A celebration of life
People all over the world are camping
That’s what you do in your tent, right?
People around the world
Are on vacation permanent
That’s what you’re in on vacation, right?
A tent.
When you want to get in touch with nature.
They destroyed everything.
Our homes
Our hospitals
Our place of prayer
Holy Places
They murdered our children
Our Children
My mother lies
In part, in parts
Most of her hot vapor sprayed
Against the wall
Updating paintings
Soaking into the soft cushions
I’m in a tent
On vacation
Plenty of food
Like “Victory”
It’s within reach
A few more meters
A few more deaths
You’re in a tent
You say to me
Rent-free
I should be happy
And quiet
For the privilege I endure
You know I wanted you to rape me
As I’m sure you think all the women want
To be raped
That’s why I parade around on stage
In barely any nothing at all
That taunts your baser self
You’re easy
You brute
You know in my wildest calculations
You’d be relentless in your attack
Direct
In public
In daylight
To watch
On the Big Screen
RealiTV
You’re in it
And now you’re a criminal, too
Bexause you witnessed it
Like Child Porn
And did nothing, but
Catch yourself in the act
Shame on you and
Everyone else too
You’re easy
You’re it
You brute
At this time of the year
the air is cool
at this time of year
the air is heavy
at this time of year
in Jerez de la Frontera
the air is intoxicating
In Jerez
At this time of year
The air is rich with alcohol
From the bodegas
Where the casks breathe out
A steady current of alcohol vapors
from the casks of the bodegas
which saturates the intoxicating air
heavy and cool at this time of year
At this time of year
in Jerez de la Frontera
The air is rich with alcohol
that lays like a vapor dome
under the low winter cloud
above the saturated land
everyone is intoxicated
each breath a small sip
fino
each sip
amontillado
the corner of the lip splays up
oloroso
everyone is intoxicated
from the root
flamenco fino Jerez
The old man holding up the building
the police smiling in front of the ayuntamiento
The child walking next to its stroller
holding her mother’s hand
the doctor before probing you
they are all intoxicated
each small breath a sip
a homeopathic dose
of blessed alcohol
At this time of year
in the gran pueblo de Jerez de la Frontera
The air is thick with alcohol
stuck in a layer above the fertile earth
below a hovering layer of cloud
embedded in time
everyone intoxicated slightly
cruising the saturated air
in search of nowhere
Solea
En esta epoca del ano
el aire es fresco
en esta época del año
el aire es pesado
en esta época del año
En Jerez de la Frontera
el aire es intoxicante
En Jerez
En esta época del año
El aire es rico en alcohol
De las bodegas
Donde los barriles exhalan
Una corriente estable de vapores de alcohol
de los barriles de las bodegas
que satura el aire intoxicante
pesado y fresco en esta época del año
En esta época del año
En Jerez de la Frontera
El aire es rico en alcohol
que se encuentra como una cúpula de vapor
bajo la baja nube de invierno
por encima de la tierra saturada
Todos están intoxicados
Cada respiración de un pequeño sorbo
finos
cada sorbo
amontillado
la esquina del labio se extiende
oloroso
Todos están intoxicados
de la raíz
Flamenco Fino Jerez
El viejo sosteniendo el edificio
la policía sonriendo frente al ayuntamiento
El niño caminando al lado de su cochecito
sosteniendo la mano de su madre
el médico antes de sondearlo
Todos están intoxicados
cada aliento pequeño un sorbo
una dosis homeopática
de bendito alcohol
En esta época del año
En el Gran Pueblo de Jerez de la Frontera
El aire está lleno de alcohol
atascado en una capa sobre la tierra fértil
Debajo de una capa de nubes que se cierne
incrustado en el tiempo
todos intoxicados ligeramente
navegar por el aire saturado
En busca de ninguna parte