We Fucked All You! (Romeo Molina)
die in around friends and one begins to doubt his immortality.
The dead are increasingly fractious. Today
get ironic wonder.
I think they realize to be increasingly the majority.
(Roque Dalton, The Tavern and Other Places)
Today I woke thinking of the village where I was born, where Izotes beyond the sun burst and give us flowers to alleviate hunger.
The Savador, country of all crawling now in the hands of evil, death wets her face and Gun Down the peace of every day, there are packs of dogs that walk on two legs and bite treason.
We're screwed!
the dead In this land are planted everywhere, and do not bear fruit, sometimes just sometimes bloom of absences in the memory of a relative. There are cities disappeared, spirits in penalties as crows peck tissues in the morning.
The days are counted as dead, two by two and three three, a half dozen times. The living will at any time dodging snakes and little, very little is spoken of eggs.
We Fucked!
say God does not forget her children, but here ... Anda
sending the Devil.
Hunger (Romeo Molina)
A poor woman
bitch is made in a rich bed for He screams eating
on forced orgasms
She sobs
Somebody else cries
she does not want to be left alone cupcake
their dead
not bagged.
Hunger is a tear in our
father is the rich embroidery
On the body of this people.
