Tramp Relieve

“The apparition of these faces in the crowd; petals on a wet, black bough.” -Ezra Pound I saw them coming walking through the crowd millions of people moving all wearing the same odd clothes the same worn out dark colors I keep watching them I’m hypnotize by their power the hard boots on the floor make my ears ring louder with every single step louder and louder I’m scared, but I’m not alone maybe this time is not for me that they have come for -Stay put- I say to myself to the flies, to the cardboard to the neighbor in a hollow suit They are close now there’s no time to run there’s not place either it’s just me and my faith and I’m not ready to go I know it is not my time yet I shut my eyes close really hard -Go away, go far away- I start saying on my head over and over again -Go away, go far away- over and over again I can hear them right next to me -Go away, go far away- They have stopped couples of inches away -Go away, go far away- They have guns, I can smell them -Go away, go far away- I hear a murmur, a thud and then… silence plastic bags been filled with memories of the street and a heart broken in tiny little pieces the steps again, the hard boots on the floor -Go away, go far away- -Go away, go far away- -Go away, go far away- -Go away, go far away- The steps seem to disappear on the crowd -1 -2 -3 -4 -5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!- I count to myself before opening my eyes again To my surprise, they didn’t touch my stuff nor my treasure, nor my paintings But the hollow suited neighbor the one that once kindly shared with me his meals, his blankets, even his precious water is now gone I know that it might sound selfish but at the end, aren't we all a little selfish? In any case...I’m glad it wasn’t me this time I get one more day and one more night ti breathe Aún no sabría decir cómo llegué a escribir lo que escribí. Hasta ahora quería creer que el norte no había influenciado mi punto de vista. Pero después de escribir esto, producto de una imagen repentina en mi cabeza de haber recordardo una línea evocada por esta diminuta palabra "Relieve" (a la que hago mención al comienzo del escrito), me di cuenta de lo equivocada que estaba. Cuando pude haberla leido en español a entenderse como textura, la leí en ingles a entenderse como alivio. Es allí cuando me di cuenta lo imposible que es no dejarse influenciar por el mundo que nos rodea. Tanto así que escribo sobre una pequeña escena que recreé en mi mente recordando alguna vez haber visto unos policias pateando a un indigente en la calle...