viernes, 4 de junio de 2010

Black urban bird

Black urban bird

Fortunately or unfortunately
My friend
The jungle wasn’t made
For none of the both

Neither for us is the anesthesia 
Of the hospitals’ clean & easy release
Because for us was made the dirty death
Of sidewalks and streets

Even the pretext of being
Just another step
In the food chain
Isn’t ours, my friend

Because except for some strayed kitties
And repulsive insects
Our meat, nerves and bones
Aren’t appreciated by nobody

Black is the ink in our quills
But if someone pay attention
Will see the rainbow in them
Without necessity of any rain

Anyway, the city
With its multilevel reality
And its intermittent sidewalks
Is our home

But we don’t waste tears on our fate
Because we need all of them
To protect our eyes from the smog
And to sing heartedly, unheard songs

Below the city’s 
Red smoke dyed sunsets
Inside its streets’ labyrinth 
Too far from the jungle’s natural scheme

VABM June 3, 2010

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