The elephant he come for the bull the nods of heads, the “ Okay, my friend … “ the trunk Continue reading
The bull he walk off, like the elephant for his own words, with his own death. The quick understanding the Continue reading
My mouth is a Moorish gate of rhinestones and piercings and spikes.
Our stones shear, like our religions, whose fall so near. There’s the catch, the shiver, the beg for a river. Continue reading
Gargoyle, hija, come, meet me at mass, where I with flatness of wood shall plan to beat your fungal ass, Continue reading
¡ Yeah, gargoyle ! ¡ Arribasé la cabeza ! Lift high your head ! Prepare to receive the bread, Baked Continue reading
Our stones, they shear, they sheer like our religions.
I, the bull, became more tired than I ever knew was possible to grow tired and so sleepy and they Continue reading