Cantata canina

Perro

como la pared

incoloro;

tatuadas las costillas

de puntapiés anónimos

y hambres estratificadas

—acera arriba,

las patas sobre la luna

cuarteada en un charco negro—:

callada tristeza

amputada de aullidos

sin trucos de pantufla

ni hueso sepulto.

Perro

perenne

de la calle

asonante

(hambreado corazón

marchito

de libertades).

Perro

sin cadena

ni amo

ni césped.

Perro

sediento

a morir

como tal.

Pharaoh versus the soothsayer

I sense

you do not

pursue

the truth

in the answer.

You seek

rather

a palliative

agreeable

non-confronting

affirmation

to your particular,

peculiar

mannerism

of burying

your head

in the abyss

of proverbial

sand

making it

pliable

enough

to allow

for concealment

for categoric denial

for barbaric

castration

of reasons

other

than

your own

monological

atavistic

machinations.

The abyss

as such

is bottomless

and denials

float away

in subterranean

ever expanding

confinement

of advancing

emptiness

and diluting

substance...

The truth

lies

thus

ugly

and unabated

beyond

your reach

and commonality

in the nomadic

sand-blown

autocratic

fiefdom

that rules

within

the dunes

of your mind.