Bike Birthday Cake Pattern

Tijuana book: Pain of childbirth

Index / Tijuana: Pain of childbirth

Texts of poems by Carlos López Dzur

The 69 -

Sixty-nine of every hundred thousand young
of San Francisco have been accessed
temple of their bodies and tiny
predictable soul of a bullet, sacred utensil
manhood and evil holy anger, ruthless
profit does not yield progress, but conn
rap death or thump .

gun is that without baptism there is no city dweller.
is that no gun or knife
not say I am wise in seeking
of bread and profit.

In this land of illusions and complex
must have style and thunder,
ah no, pistol?
and being young is just ahead on the occasion of consecrating the ostia
bleed and breath. Bless


street from the emergency room,
here that heaven is
from a bed, stretched out, with wine

serum into the veins or on the lips. Here


learn to pray and say goodbye and look at the pain
size Bala
Santa being pulled with pliers and scalpels.

December 1995

*
The new visitor

Just know that the bracero
to comply with the pull
is paid in dollars, gentlemen, and if they beat

nostalgia has to return and fulfill their sueñazos

as the Tomato King
(oh, but not know that there are nights
Parranderas with queers and females
bars, and a bad seed
who gets into the blood ...
alas, he does not know AIDS death, the new visitor
the Ruralies!) 03/11/1992

<>



The job I was born with a shovel and oberol
rough hands and I gave them my father

heritage and value work ..

He taught me to dream that
building a house, who built a wall and I tend
on paved roads.
entered the pasture with rods.
Since childhood, my strength
cling to the large brush and the screen and know secrets
cement, lime charge
bales and sand the pour.

I am one of the scholars of
concrete, and hormones, I have a bit of silica
and sweat on my forehead and the color of the sun that burns
and habits
up early at 5:00 or earlier.

I see a little star
with my eyes and the aroma of coffee
I catch early, before I go ...
with my father at my side.

<>

Young unemployed

On days like these, no job, and nobody
appointment, either him or my brothers
.

Without office climbing up scaffolding,
are others novelero bursts, without my knowledge
sand fox,
my gear without tying steel.

Others who do not climb stairs or lift
or plank wood walls
the substance
structure their invention to the air, his skeleton
winds are intruders.

Others who do not ditch your stone design,

root and foundation, even with pale skin, are vicious, Lick
fatigue, are fed in slow steps,
weak breath.
come and enact my shame, I'm clumsy and unfortunate
the young with no future,
the subject of derision. __


Tantralia / Part / Nemoroso Soliloquy / Theory sustainability / social Inventive / Index / Tijuana: Pain of childbirth / As an Amazon / The first kiss / Talk of neighbors / Meike's Mapo and Tocua / The people in shadow / San Sebastián del Pepino / Interview: Cranes In Flight