Medellin #1
A kiss like an outpouring of tongues
Clawed at as I push away
A Dali moustache leads me home
One feather earring, and liberal
Passing lit-up garages
Empty with spilt oil
Hollow and blank, that five o’clock anthem
Beating like shallow techno
The only thing clear, or half-clear,
I could carry on…no more to ruin
Straddling daylight, moon still there
Cuddling modest clouds
Shining past its bedtime
The delicious failure of sunlit walks
In familiar territory, a playground
Greasy fingers in bed, inhaling
Automatic fan makes the heat lazy
Narrow room with no windows
Only curtains flapping like loathsome moths
Medellin #2
Swimming beans with a chorizo sausage
And too-clean rice,
A taste not your own
A clock with no hands glowing there
Church-like on Calle 9
Roaring and capitalizing,
Capsizing and the leaves all lit-up like autumn
Some world found out
By those from outside
Fresh coffee and other bottled smells
Under rough roofs and repair shops,
Stray bits of string, frayed edges,
Palm trees and a sunbathing banana
Men dressed like plastic women,
Square buttocks and waxed
Over consuming within your means
Faces that tell stories and don’t
Sanding floors and scraping paint
(Oily paint casts a stain
As the tap lets it run)
And there´s lightning like reminders
Your heart beats and your limbs numb
Alone and swollen and completely not wondering
