se ponen a cantar
Se imaginan tendidos sobre la hierba
Hasta la oyen crujir debajo de ellos
la carne de su carne
Respiran polución
Toman el sol
Saben que son como corderos
y entre más felices parecen
Más pronto llegará la hora del degüello
Los buitres, esperan ansiosos esta carne
Finalmente serán carroña
rompen la coraza y sangran
Se ven músculos y tendones
heridas y alcohol
La gente ríe, parecen seres adaptados
Mientras pagan las hipotecas
Pretendiendo que nada pasa.
Tienen crisálidas
throat glued to bare skin I am ashamed
And guts exposed fault
spruce
It is too late then
Van in small packs to atone to whom it may concern that another mortal
A more imperfect they are encouraged to pursue
game by washing the head with promises of fidelity
encouraging them to give children hope
Knowing that their love had they never will be compensated
Unable to coexist
inexpectantes day and night with their dead pubis
slaughter With Case They fear more
uprooting
That death itself.
was dressed to go on holiday buy
join a car to be happy misery
For all this, keep it running.
by Kath GOMEZ PHOTO
STIVEN KLEIN
http://kathogomez.blogspot.com/atom.xml
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