JURASSIC TIMES KEVIN CASTRO Selections translated by André Marston
Crappy Poem MMVII i have water inside my body like a cactus but i am not a cactus you know i see little american indians dancing fiercely on your head they are messing up your hair dear we have sunlight on our faces and you look at me as if i were a cactus i love you with your little american indians i want to say things to you i want to bathe with you in the falls of san jerónimo in huarochirí i want to touch your hair and not say anything to you you won’t stay with me i look at your sunglasses at your beauty spots at the bags under your eyes from too little sleep 44