Más de la libreta de Tony La Rose

Sitting on the edge of this sidewalk
I recount all times
judgement of men has fallen on me

those good-will impertinents
with fair intentions and crooked ways. 

Now nobody messes with me
and sometimes I miss their voices
just for the longing
of a human speech I understand.

Here I only am a lonely foreigner

the one who is offered souvenirs at every corner
the one who is asked for a dollar
the one pointed with the finger

by laughing children.

The language of this land is elusive to me
I cannot assert when am being judged

or simply seen as an amusement.

Here nothing is what it seems

even when it supposes to be what it seems
          there are weekly storms in these badlands
          there is searing     being high grounds

          mountains look like lying corpses
          funeral houses look as hotels
          churches like palaces
          and palaces are ruins.

But I am not judging     just wonder
I try to understand without asking
because nobody understands
even when they seem to.

I would give an hour of my lifespan
to hear one of those impertinents of before
to be with my own children
and not to be finger-pointed
laughed at
bartered     begged     scammed
but it is not time yet.

(Encontrada bajo una banca en el templo de San Antonio. Aguascalientes, Ags., 20150830).

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