Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

The Need for Thumbs We've already spent too many late afternoons creating a town full of exquisite corpses. What we really need is a new Visa card. One we can access without thumbs. We're flat, our mouths are full of halcyon holidays and losing horses. Two in the third, one the fifth. Everything's falling from us, kindness, pieces of our nose. Not even sugar crystals can fix these fallen rings. We're dead and cannot smile because the sky for us is silence. The sound of jazz comes from the blood melted on what's left of our eyelids. ©  Sergio A. Ortiz, May 7, 2010