Eléna Rivera

Aug. 5 Aug. 5

Aug. 5 When a man is asked to sing of his anger the risk is that without remorse virtue dies War then is in the face, in this homelessness, the despair which couldn't wait couldn't ask for We don't talk to each other anymore we email global reach managed minutes morning to noon in the hospitals we are all old forbidden to talk of lost sons, asked to smile Enough, they'll hear the news, men in photographs die and nothing will seem simple, their faces especially where sorrow stretched everything Maps point to? and defeat looms where? out there where? Here the naked body is where terror lies Guilt builds monuments, the way we spend our time

May 12, 2010 / Books & the Arts / Eléna Rivera