SANTIAGO ACOSTA
The Policeman’s Son
(translation by Tiffany Troy)
Without thinking twice, I step out into the abandoned airstrip.
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Without thinking twice, I step out into the abandoned airstrip.
It began. Clouds parted because clouds part.
Botero’s critics ask all the time, why the obsession with fat?
Buletin hidrologic: cotele apelor Dunarii in ziua de 19 februarie
Because someone once wanted you,Â
I know we can want you.Â
I slip behind a large oak. The cows regain their drowsiness.
A jellyfish floats the ocean hallway
like a plastic bag
Like any good son, I stole
mother’s
insomnia when she delivered me
I sell tickets for magicians and mimes,
I stand by the entrance with the key like Peter.
does draw a blues a curtain along
a greenfleshed ash