"...welcome to our town. right in the middle of nowhere,
no breath, no sound..." I was Mrs. Gibbs
eating french toast with my husband dreaming
about having a holiday in Parismaking breakfast
for my little Rebecca and my young man George
joining the choir practices,meeting my impatient hubby at the doorthen crying as George went up the aisle in marriage
finally sitting with the deadlistening to people's mourns
watching my husband cry on my gravetalking about life and death
I REMEMBER EARLY MORNINGS feeding the chickens, stringing beans, admiring the night air and the glorius moon,
worrying about George going out the house in such cold weather,trying to pacify my angry husband, fixing
it was, all the while, wonderful to live in that place,
a silent little town with neighbors, some ambitious, some passive,some trivial. it is about meeting life in the face and knowing that every second sums up the beauty of it.
space and time injects itself in this certain peace and i find myself sitting outside a bus terminal at night.the underworld.
THE NOCTURNAL RED LIGHT DISTRICT.thick make-up on the face,
a pouch in hand, with condoms, face powder, lipstick and a small amount of cash.i am Mama Luz in all her old-age-glorystill facing each night in pimp's clothesremembering about my son Jorge who.. perhaps he wanted me dead.. about a year ago, we performed a live sex for an audience who doesn't know the difference between the light and the dark, who doesn't know how it is to die inside...i talk of Wilson who sent me to hell..
when all i wanted was a little redemption from my own hell,
e went up to thrust all sorts of things into all of me,
all of me.. his friends paid me 5000 to mate with a hairy german shepherd.. do you want me to say that i faced them all with
a tired heart?no; oh no.. not like that at all.. more than that..
i was dead. i was long dead. as i went with different men each night. in bed, on the floor, in motels...all of this is a dead woman's journey, a live body's burning hell...