In certain costal Colombian towns

by paisita

Posted to Action Poetry on 2001-05-06 11:57:00

In certain costal Colombian towns
the air is so heavy with sweat
that all things rot
the moment
they are born
and time stops
or is irrelevant

I met a dusty skinned boy
whose body testified that time
indeed is mad
as a headless bird in such towns;
an old man clawed from the inside
causing visible damage
to the miniature body
anxious to die.

Houses and shops
reject their primary color paint shells
in a similar fashion.

“Change” is a word so clichéd
not even crooked politicians use it now,
although they repaint their names
on the public walls and abandoned buildings,
home to dying children,
old men, green things,
mad to live and reeking of decay.