Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

My first sin was to ridicule a mocker, and hate him with clear adoration. For in so doing, I became the beggar and he the overlord of my will. Now I know the devil, I know Rome in its last hour.

Gray and Dead I’ve thought about dinner parties, the theatre: things no longer in the budget. Sex. Doctors. I’ve thought about cohesion, Clairol, Herbal Essence and Eyeliner. I’ve thought about outreach groups, raisins, peaches, and kiwis. Still-life paintings in my city. I’ve thought about The Voice, and meals on wheels. About slam competitions, and another twenty years of less, and less of a line that does not disappear on its own. I’ve thought about mangrove crabs living in mud holes, pushed back into the closet.

Toilets I’m in love with a homeless man. Now listen, we’ve got a lot in common, H.U.D., lawyers, politicians. We have heated discussions about the face fucking activity in the toilets at the Whitehouse but when he stares at my dick and licks my nipples it’s just me and him.

Para Recuperar la Desnudez Mi pobre pueblo, decenas de zapos y reptiles políticos invadieron sus aguas. Ahora todos nos odiamos. Virus de ranas con putos zapatos de cocodrilos. Me huele a brea, y a trabajo forzoso. Me huele a despedida, y a año electoral, a mulato a punto de perder su reelección. Me huele a rezo, a incienso y a San Antonio de Padua naufragando.