Juarez

These devoid of contents words are so remote. They are stories someone wants

To believe at the extremity of the century. Everyone gathers their sea of

Telluric pain to welcome the beginning of the novel world.

Cars stop and watch the adorn chairs limp across the way to await

The coming of the novel year. It is the extremity of summer and autumn and

Winter and springs, and panzer infatuation.

After four hundr eighty single years, I cannot pull without the Spanish

Arrow in my organ of vision Suddenly everything I knew was inhuman:

The ocean, the tadpoles in their of recent origin cars. The clams became

Cheerleaders. The palm tree strippers, and everyone forgot,

Deer are the shapes of the supreme being

His official language became Latin, when He ceased to be a hebrew

Biting his nails and collecting cans like a cheap minister with fine

Gold teeth The delicate years that once wore oyster would not at any time

Speak to Him again.

The female spider became a lesbian, devouring our of recent origin long legs,

That would at no time again limb the toy paces our father left us.

Although our leg are hairy and the lilies of a theater, the bland lips of

Our pyramids quiet on our souls like a lover's fingers.

How many aspirins will we take to reach the surface of truth?

My existence is for sale. The dawn is learning English.

The waves of the sea are unionizing.

The stones that were one time our troubled hearts are eating chocolate.

I advance to sell you fish, the bread in my vital current and my existence.

Copyright World poesy Incorporated Jul/Aug 2000

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