Sitting, huddled in filthy plastic hospital chair,
trembling, his face blue, her dark eyes
inflated
dried blood on the corner of his mouth, fleshy, not
pain. Only an intense
crackling in his head invades all:
seven frying beef steaks to
blazing sirens wail background while within,
will invade and leave no time to do so
revenge
what is too unfair,
that surpasses imagination.
Who am I to judge?
Gone are the run-up along the waterfront of Havana nights
hunting tourists (as prey)
prawns with removable pants VisaOro
and buying sex. Sometimes
glass beads and a hot meal, beans, and those viejunos bright
"That little panache my love "
're a girl with the body used and lively eyes
then you come to Europe, called the First World
And you keep spending your body
desgastándote
in a provincial whorehouse.
And dream of going to the hands of a distinguished man
linen suit jacket
two with vehement expression,
swollen with social success.
just want to be tall and proud,
like them, distinguished women combed hair salon,
the theater you do not care.
But no customers brothel influential individuals
only vulgar,
(and everything is filthy)
The European Dream
There is only the cutting edge, bright, and the incessant crackle
.
soez.y Food is also rough. I did buy
flaccid forms.
The stylish girl running breezy with pomp
ass on the boardwalk in Havana,
have high cholesterol, trans are the cheapest and the life it creates anxiety.
No, no distinguished men,
and if any, are safe boring. This was funny
What are my love that day at the ball.
Until one day I'll take the neck and press hard
- my black Careful what you do -
you hit in the stomach, something slammed
(the end of the esophagus)
thought that everything was over, but no,
you still had the strength to endure.
A punch, and another,
cares if you do not feel pain, just
sirens and crackling that intense.
flashing sheet on those bodies falling startled,
convulsing,
knife macabre dance of sinking between white coats.
And only then felt calm.
