A veces escribo. A veces nomas me da por moler

A veces escribo. A veces, nomas me da por moler.

lunes, 28 de julio de 2008

Alebrije en Seattle

Alebrije en Seattle

The street's closed for the rain, the street's screaming,
street of cry and protest,
sweet love of the third world right here in the first
-There's no place to run away-

Blind eyes of blinded main square.
All kings are castled
The good mama's kids still surprised.
Take their hands
"No pasarán, no pasarán"

How sweet ignorance is, most if it's learned in the first lesson.
Of heavy club, acrylic shield and boots,
Helmet, pepper explosion and rubber bullets.

So it is beyond the Rio Grande, far away of the world of "all is possible".
The one who has to be the world around.


in the shopwindow across the corner, smiling it wait indeed.
With it's label showing three hundred dollars sale:
A brand new curious from Oaxaca. (some where right south)
Seeking for the dreams of this new defeated ones.

Let's see which colored monster shows
From the head they have meet by now
The sour of the pepper gas in their eyes
Their throats
their lives.
In to their nightmares.

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