Poem - Tania Carrera

The puppet walks, it looks happy; it seems as if the hand that manages it doesn’t exist.

the show goes on, at least that’s what they say.

You were satisfied with your role; the ties gives you a morbid satisfaction you love them, they’re already part of you while you brag that yours are colorful, instead of gray or brown.

You get to feel that you deserve them, that the colors were awarded for mere justice. Yes, you deserve them just like the carrion of those who die that you devour with hypocrisy, all those things you call “class”.

Once the puppeteer leaves you carefully take the threads sewn on your back, precariously you move them, your face is again the one they told you to wear

The man sees you, says nothing he laughs, louder [more and more] you don’t realize that you force yourself. -You mutilate yourself-

they will throw you, my dear doll, they will throw you because they already have more, and they all swallowed the same lie of being a spectacle for the pigs.

Tania Carrera

She is a poet and singer. He has published the poetry collections Espejos (Gato Negro Editorial, 2013) and Un dios lubricante (www.undioslubricante.com, 2015; Fondo Editorial of the State of Morelos, 2018)