The Sand and the Forgotten on this Side of the Border
Fuck A Wall
America should build a big mirror
We hope the dead reconcile
with the dead, so they may achieve
a position among their peers.
May the student and the lady in a Stetson
make the same mistakes.
And the victim cross the street
side by side his eternal executioner
without recognizing him.
Shadows or ghosts, both shall pass.
On the sidelines, the feast of the living
is still happening. Listen to the slight music
of the mountains of exile in silence
and don't look back.
This, and not another, is our story:
The time contemplated in the fissures of the sand,
The slow ripening of deserts without limit.