January 2013


this street is a universe

i'm woken up by toddlers from a kindergarden

the apple tree it's called

before, the teddy bear

crying angels left by their parents in bikes

squeaky clean / boring jobs

the hardest working man on earth - my landlord

is always present in his shop

happy like a puritan

he conquers heaven every day

selling home appliances

there's a mini-market

run by newcomers

who open at noon and close at midnight

every single day of the year

a drugstore that sells toilet seats for people with hemorroids

a perfumerie full of gorgeous blondes with huge eyelashes

there's a corner bar

full of thugs

just released from prison

very tattooed

even their faces

doing dirty deeds in the backyard

and drug-addicted prostitutes

hoping to find a good man among them

there's teenage girls there - some are pretty - who work as waitresses

and dream of singing big time

kids who burn firecrackers on the sidewalks

reminding their parents

of painful wars

there's a joint no one visits

where big ladies buy double-d cup brassieres they'll never show anyone

and tacky clothes - too expensive

take-away spare-ribs with sweet soy sauce from indonesia for 11,50

and an aquarium

where tropical fish ignore what goes on outside their crystal bowls

there's students living here

and retirees

and veterans

angry people sad people happy people

a guy who'll throw himself to the train tracks next christmas

an adolescent who looks forward to pierce her nipples and dye her hair pink

cougars wishing to be satisfied by a mulatto from the colonies

and old dudes who pay to get so by slav youngsters

behind scarlet windows

close to Holland Spoor

white haired grannies who walk their cats on a leash

and a bass player who skateboards beyond his forties

a spanish immigrant who picks up garbage for a living

and there's me

on the window

this new year's eve

watching them

from above

chinese fireworks

hoping good

for this time that begins


Jorge Mejia Hernandez