tanka - For Russia with Love






a tree trembles 
after the mist has lifted . . .
I work on 
the language
of my irate silence


who will speak
these days,
if not I,
who will be the throat
of these hours      

there’s a triangular
rainbow stuck to my tongue
and it wants
to lick
your genitals 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Nina Simone Explica Delirios al Gobernador de Puerto Rico

La Resaca Issue 2

Lucecita Benitez - Cabalgata