Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

make way for the man who does not fear the tempests of disdain, that vintage wine of love

I reconstruct my day from a fragment of light— i am the man who came to live here with his fires

the fact is even when I sleep you are the magnetic circle of my sea surf

my body the mansion of sunsets thunder  of the seas disappearing gull on a wire

let me cover your sex with mango juice and strawberries... the hidden wine of your heart on my lips your legs sweet pomegranate... let me reap  the fruits of your sweat and swallow your peaches

I love younger men air jockeys living in university corridors urban peace planners

wrapped in beautiful slogans my smile challenges scarcity and wipes away tears

hours in a vacuum... who can predict  the future when we've forgotten each other’s names

what is naked and lives in the twilight like a specter… silence fills me, an autumn butterfly . what is naked and lives in the twilight's silence within me-- a specter that fills like an autumn butterfly . what is naked and lives in the twilight like a specter… the silence that fills me like an autumn butterfly

we cuddled in each other’s warmth… everything around us melts except our feelings

on a night train to Connecticut, the homeless sitting by a campfire— gods and buddhas crying at their feet

yesterday will become the obscene   heartbreak of an empty existence like every other day in my life

lo hice otra vez malgaste toda mi coquetería en cenizas como si la belleza de un gota no tuviera fin I did it again wasted all my coquetry on ashes as if the beauty of a drop would never end

the war we fought . . .  bed sheets we still wash  in secret 

Artist Elizabeth Erazo Baez I should have said I love you... winter  already waving its hand at me

The War We Fought I handed you my anonymity before the war…   hoping you’d last forever on my bed the war we fought our bedsheets full of sex— ah, the past we try to clean it up put in order our today I wait for an echo but the smoldering cannabis of my sorrow doesn’t answer— Good Morning Vietnam!

I handed you my anonymity several times during the night before the war…  hoping  you’d last forever in my bed

the war we fought bedsheets full of our sex— ah, the past we try to clean it up to put in order our today

you’re so needy I sing and sing yet my voice remains at a distance… a starry constellation

fue en un bar, una noche sudorosa, donde me comiste trozo a trozo…  y yo funde pueblos en honor a tu memoria