As you have read before I am in a creative writing class and all we do is write poetry. The prof is awesome, the class is really chill, but writing poetry is as difficult for me as is having successful interactions with men. You know how that goes... Needless to say I was slightly terrified when it was my day to share a poem with the class. Whatever cosmic power is out there must have had it´s mojo working the day I wrote the poem because everyone thought it was really good! I still don´t think I´m any good at writing poetry, but it´s comforting to know that it isn´t completely out of the question to have momentary stokes of luck and inspiration. Anyways, since I´m kinda proud of this guy, I want to be self-published in my own blog. Here you all go...
LA CIUDAD
Por este puente dorado llegamos,
los Hendrixianos cenan en el césped
tocan
y se ríen a carcajadas.
Las casitas victorianas comprimidas
suben la loma
marrón, salmón, crema, turquesa, amarilla…
... es ésa más pajiza o áurea?
Desde la cumbre se despliega todo,
un sintonizador
salta en el centro
el pulso, energía –
Es verdad, sí rascan el cielo.
Intoxicado hubiera podido perderme allí.
ninguna persona sabe quien soy,
las luces
las ventanas más altas…
Seguimos bajando a la jungla,
vallas, bares, basura, cerveza, cigarrillos, humo taxis
taxistas roqueros punks junkies pijos artistas
banderas bandas vagabundos
burguesía Banana Republic,
Valentino.
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