Hungry, armed, violent
One dark path / one two-way highway / one ambulance / one long-distance bus / one local bus / two trucks / / one bicycle / five cars, all on the side of the highway / three of the latter waiting to be serviced in a dimension of a physical language, under a sky of a single color / two blinding lights / two of twelve thin legs, balancing, on / two red high heels / Suddenly / three deafening sirens / six rotating lights and A PACK OF BLUE DOGS hungry, armed, violent
/ four terrifying screams // two words that paralyze / six butterflies that, running, try to take flight / one of the six falls to the ground // two shotguns that fire into the air // two 9 millimeters that point and open fire / eight hands poised on four triggers // three of five blasts make impact / three perforations in a short sequined dress, silver and bloody // 20 gold suns flying in the air / 100 cries for mercy / 200 pleas for compassion. Ten broken bones / various pieces of torn flesh
/ One comb / one mirror // one red lipstick // one imitation Louis Vuitton purse / one body dragging itself / 1,000 groans of pain. An avalanche of extreme deathly silence that becomes the protagonist in a scene of blood
One long black bag / One dark transport truck and A PACK OF BLUE DOGS hungry, armed, violent
One house that waits / one candle lit before a prayer card / one empty bed / one picture frame // two unread poems in the drawer of a night table / one box of sedatives / one ashtray / four cigarette butts / 20 family pictures, in two albums / only one plate on the table / one small refrigerator with leftover boiled noodles, together with a quarter of a flask of coffee liqueur and a piece of lemon. One cold laboratory room / four beds // eight degrees below zero / two windows / one general light / three round reflectors / three clamps / two scalpels / two small saws / two needles / one roll of nylon thread/ meters of gauze and cotton // 15 sample jars / two liters of alcohol / three liters of formaldehyde / three pairs of latex surgical gloves / three surgical masks / three scrub caps / six surgical gowns /
One body with hips and buttocks injected with silicone // one penis / two breast implants // one peeled skin / 70 kilos of filleted meat / four liters of clotted blood / 300 muscles to be analyzed on a sheetless silver metal gurney and a PACK OF BLUE DOGS who pace from side to side, hungry armed, violent.
One office with low yellow lights / one narrow hallway / four walls / one ceiling with peeling paint / three typewriters with keyboards and no monitor // two eyes that gaze without seeing / one open mouth with no words, no sound, no breath /
As my soul looks down from above, my body, mutilated, lies below, and taking note in a fictitious statistic with the heading, one headline that doesn’t know us and describes us as unidentified and putting the stamp and signature at the end of a parallel inventory the same PACK OF BLUE DOGS hungry, armed, violent.
