PAIN IS A BORDER


I never thought I would see
A ku klux klan migra prostrate
Before my Japanese car

Prostrations are the same
All over the world

I submit and it hurts
But it supposed to hurt

Pain is a border

A borderline of gifts
For those who
Fall asleep on
Invisible congregations

Sleeping
Waiting to be awaken
By His word

Sleeping
But listening
Always listening
For the instructions
Of the Son of
The Man

Sleeping
While they
Defame you
And you pretend
You are not listening

Sleeping
Not waiting
To be kissed
Or to be fucked
Because you are
Too tired anyways
And that’s why
You are sleeping

Sleeping
With you eyes open
When beauty is present

Sleeping
With your eyes closed
When folly
Is around you

Sleeping
Always pretending
To rest
But you know
Only the end
Gives true rest

Sleeping
As you win

Sleeping
As you lose

Sleeping
Together wanting
To ignite some-meaning
Left & forgotten
Present but hidden

Sleeping
On a rocky road
A dusty path
Right there
On the footprints
Of the poor

MORNING AGAPE

The missile
Lands on
A pitch roof
It deflects

MIGRA MORAN


“What are the antennas for?”
“Radios”
“What do you used the radios for?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know”
“What are they for!”
“Communications”
“Communications?”
“Yes, don’t you have a radio?”
“No”
“They don’t issue you radios?”
“Yes, they do, but I don’t use them”
“Why?”
“Because you will listen to me”
“That only happens in the movies man”
“Open the trunk“
“Okay”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“Sales”
“Show me your wallet”
“Okay”
“Take the money out of it, I don’t want to take your cash”
“I understand…. interest free loans are hard to beat”
“Is that your boy?”
(He asked as he looked at the picture)
“Yes, one of them”
“One of them?”
“Aha”
“How many wives do you have?”
“Sorry I can’t answer that, I don’t want to incriminate myself”
“I understand”
“No man, I am joking, I have one wife; what about you? do you have kids?”
“Yes”
“Are you married?”
“No”
“Divorced”
“Yes”
“I am getting divorced too”
“So, you sell radios?”
“Yes, HF”
“HF?”
“Yes, you guys use VHF & UHF, you know… local communications. HF is worldwide.
“Okay, wait here… I will hurry up”
“Thank you”

LIES

At the
Dinning table
As I steer the
Seafood in
My bowl

The red can
Tells me
To lift
You up

That you
Are a classic

That you
Are good

That you
Are flavorful!

But as a placed
My lips
On the metal
It feels frigid