Thursday, March 23, 2006

La Novena de los Santos Rieles

Bouncing around inside my head you wonder
in my dreams and underneath the full moon, hiding
inside the house you live in with your parents,
your siblings, your regrets and your misfortunes
Under the Tropic of Cancer forced to grow up
grinding to dust your teeth, in constant horror
unbeknownst to you the distant future
would fire her machine in your direction
with bullets made of pleasure and of sorrow

You sneak into my chest and to the far left
a locomotive, abandoned and defeated
left for dead, insane, schizophrenic
talking to itself without an answer
eternally condemned to rewrite stories
of halcyon days and youthful hedonism
of shiny chrome, sweet wine and tender fabrics
at its back the wet wind slowly eroding
its carcass once regarded as impressive

Like the train at the dusk of its existence
I fold in equal parts your yellowed portrait
like the pleats of your skirt, the one you hated
and I place it ever careful in my memory
alongside all the things I have neglected.
The ties are simply stronger than the area
between the two of us, the immediate compass
but never, as persuasive as the blood stream
which seems to rule the bodies with desire

Approaching a tight corner to the far right
a defiant tiny curve would rise to power
the metal wheels screeching, barking orders
to the pistons red with rust from unemployment.
The rails once separated by the humans
will meet at last to make love in the distance
although no one will see them in their bedstead
they will see themselves in one another
and they will love each other everlasting

New York City, March 2006
© Copyright 2006 Alberto Ruiz. All Rights Reserved