Montadura in which I am possessed by the spirit of Roberto Bolaño

By Mario Alejandro Ariza

Posted on

It is 1980 my father is high on cocaine.
He is a man unfaithful even to his own sadness.

(there was a machine I was involved in it it gave me a diamond I gave it the heart of a palm it thundered and groaned like a moss-covered god)

It is 1980
we are among
my wife’s dead
hanging flowers
and I am
Cocaine.She says
“think of
the moon
as a biground magnet
stuck to the fridge
At your ex’s
house. I bought
it for him.”
She says.                                                 

(After some good sweet years of burning fossil fuels I see The Machine again, she looks good, real good. She’s got a tattoo it reads: man has to be taught what to do with beauty)

I am sitting in a car waiting for it to stop raining.
You are in another city with another man.
How did I get here, is the obvious question.
The more important question is:
who shuts the rain off and where do they go
when their job is finished?
Who taught beauty what to do with man,
                                                      is another obvious one.  

– Mario Alejandro Ariza