Los 7 Locos, p. 44

“Entonces gastó el dinero en una forma estúpida, frenética.  Compró golosinas que nunca le apetecieron, almorzó cangrejos, sopas de tortuga y fritada de ranas, en restaurantes donde el derecho de sentarse junto a personas bien vestidas es costosísimo, bebió licores caros y vinos insulsos para su paladar sin sensibilidad, y sin embargo carecía de las cosas más necesarias para el mediocre vivir, como ropa interior, zapatos, corbatas…”   Los 7 locos, p. 44

Curling 101

Officer Ben Fields
squats
over 930 lbs
with reverse bands.

Now
he squats
over a skinny
high-school student
after he throws her
from (with) her desk
across a classroom.

Officer Ben Fields,
curling
is not a sport we play
with African-American youth
in the hallways
of our schools.

Now
if only your compassion
were as thick
as your thighs.

Cavernícolas con palos selfie.

Vivimos en un mundo imaginario. Nos quedamos hipnotizados en el espejo, amándonos, babeando coca cola. Pensamos que somos avanzados. Que la humanidad es superior. Somos pilas. Tenemos Wi-fi. Mira ese rascacielo. Combustible. Fusiles.

Dos mil quince. Se supone. Pero una pareja homosexual no se puede casar. Dos mujeres no pueden adoptar. El aborto es ilegal. O es legal, pero lo quieren revocar. “Dios” se vuelve el nombre de nuesto odio, nuestra xenofobia, homofobia, ignorancia.

Creo que había escuchado, alguna vez, que Dios es amor. ¡Ja! Significa que somos nosotros los odiosos entonces. Más confundidos que un perro con una corona. Cavernícolas con palos selfie.

I hate immigrants because…

I hate immigrants because _________________.

Note, if you can fill in the previous sentence with ANYTHING, please delete me from your friends list. Then take a step outside your imaginary bubble. I hate to use a cliché, but damn, check your privilege.

Just another day

Just another day. Wake up and take my pet pig for a walk. Ride Raúl, my pet donkey, to work. Teach revolutionary Hip-Hop theory to a pack of street dogs, climb an avocado tree for lunch, write some poems on post its and put em on the backs of the presidential candidates, offer alfajores to cops on the street at midnight, then head to bed. Today was a good day.

bajando la escalera

Hace un ratito, bajaba las gradas para ir a comprar mi almuerzo. Dos porteños, como de mi edad, bajaban atrás mío.

Escuché: “…Ecuador. Queda fuera Argentina boludo…un desastre…….un desastre…..un desastre”

Y seguí bajando, con una sonrisa enorme.

BTW

Also…U.S. bombed a hospital in Afghanistan and killed 22 doctors and patients. But…baseball is on… USA. USA. Kinda makes the interviews with players and coaches, and all of this “seriousness” a little less serious.

Chismoso

Google me cuenta todo, chch, qué chismoso

Roseburg

Will anything change? Will we change anything? Will we demand our politicians take action? Or will it happen again. And again. And again.

I just watched part of Obama’s speech from here in Montevideo. One thing I have noticed is that nobody here or in Buenos Aires is ashamed of going to a psychologist of psychiatrist. Almost everyone does. I made a new friend, and when she introduced her other friends, she said “the three of us go to the same psychologist.” I admire that. I don’t think that’s common in the U.S., is it? Not saying it would solve everything, but culturally, in the U.S., something is clearly amiss.