(from the moon series - Camino de Santiago edition)
sits on cement, drinks agua and has to pee
but waits, listens to the traffic, the different tongues,
says buenas noches and writes and feels the body,
the knees, the feet, knows the days to come,
the pain, the sustenance it’s going to take, remembers
the past, forgets the future, with belly full
and brain weary, asks the night its history,
its family, where were they during the war?
what side? wishes it could be with the sun,
without tasks, without revolution, just the sun
and the moon laying quietly on the beach in Salobreña
reading kafka en la Orilla del Mar and La Casa de Espiritu.
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