"Sudaba sin descanso."
He imagines brooks feeding
Creeks feeding streams feeding
Rivers feeding oceans with confused
Whales pouring from his pores,
Stagnating in his belly button and
The insides of his elbows,
The backs of his knees,
Squelching between his toes
And pooling around his ankles,
Finally lifting him up,
Weightless, vaporized by the
Sun, leaving only a pillar of salt.
Now I'm all caught up on poems:D It's 90 degrees in Mexico. O sea, unseasonably warm!
You always win at the poem game. I keep playing though.
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