Medellín

Clocks are a grand nuisance
& the sentences of sentence.
Mañana, friend we’re smiling.

A cathedral of concepts
is torn down & consecrated simultaneously.
This word-man relies on his hands.

Energy within an energy,
the city never sleeps
or shuts up.

Walls of love
manned with private security guards.
Someone could steal you.

Merlons of these prosperous fences
are sharpened daily. Marietta dresses hard
& tight, any smiles are free.

A ring of cartel mountains catch
dirty petrol the U.S. manufactures then
dumps in less-ruled lands. One must sing. & breathe.

Denying small deaths of a deafening sleep
the sanctuary of the barrio
safe in a cage of hope.

Came for the colour
left with the heat.
Kernel of their noise is music.

With my mattock of English
dug my own gave.
Perdón! They think me lovable, maybe loco.

I don’t like it & adore it.
As our world congeals to its comfortable failure
Colombians are better dancers, an answer back.

This “city of spring”, this epiphany.
The peace will be hectic
& entirely their own.

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