cuban poetry from a guy with the coolest name ever.
While I rise
And go with my gun towards some other point
Where I keep laying down and shooting.
While I wait melting into the earth
that bursts with my enemy’s howitzer.
While Xieto passes here, right next to me,
With his collapsible AK under his arm
Running and shooting
And death makes the rocks dance
Two meters away.
in this moment
my children wake up in Santiago.