street whisper

I was a fertile valley


I was surrounded by a natural stone wall that poured fresh water down my navel

and I was protected by a thick trees gate that kept me sea free

I was caressed by dark hands, I was wet with red fruit juice,

I was combed by mild slow airs, full of laughter, and nasal humming

I was pressed against by nude broad backs
that tired rested on me

And sweet feet that smelled like their mothers' tender milk


All of a sudden,
I was stamped on by beautiful beasts and men in shining armours,

and I was wet with sweet and bitter blood,

and my fertile skin was gradually covered
by buildings and holy places other than myself


Now
I am delimited by squares and straight lines

Now
my ancient nerves are drilled by strange mechanic roarings

Now
I'm scratched down
by youths in search of roots


I am right behind you


I am Santiago de Chile.










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