Night dies.
The oracular “if, ” the universe
before it.
The Mexicans make figures with
nails in them.
Exacting torment.
Red, I will remember you.
How you chased a white rooster through
the street.
The dust caked your shoes.
Then, the rooster disappeared, became
a ghost.
The ghost of hunger sleeping
on floors.
Houses without people in them, rents
too high.
Night stops breathing.
Cross yourself into daylight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
night stops breathing. good write. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.