MY PARENTS ARE IN ANOTHER GALAXY

My parents died

And I know they are in another Galaxy.

No matter how many laps you give the coconut

I always see them, me looking at the sky

Through the clouds doing sex.

Daniel came from the fratricidal war

And flying wanting to make children

Although Daniela was tired.

Even in Guadarrama, of Madrid

If the bullets and projectiles had been silent

He set the Sierra for her by bed.

There was an urgency to make children

For God, the fatherland and the king

Even if these were later robbed

By nuns and priests

To give them to the She Brifadiers.

-Tell me mother of your eight daughters

And the ninth child

Because I would have liked to see the eight

In the room you give birth.

-You were happy at birth, mother?

-You can figure, my son:

Pain, a lot of pain

Blood, sweat and tears

Illusion of seeing them well born, yes

And a lot of stress to see your father

Coming back from the war

Seeing so many dead brothers

And, the most cruel and worst

Listening to combatants who commented

And, convinced, they said:

-The General wants his skins

To make a shawl.

From their heads wild bluffs

That illuminate the Valley of the Dead.

He will tear gold teeth

From grandparents and grandmothers

Because, it is for the war

And they really need these.

With the nails of the dead

He will make spoons.

With their tails and gossips

They will make fans

For the daughters of the Crusade

To fan themselves when they go to the bulls

Or the national parade.

My father, "for both sex and smoking"

According to medical reasons

He was operated on trachea

And he expired in a cold room

In the house of General Ricardos street

My mother remaining sad and distressed.

My mother died of a stroke

When falling making noise

When she walked from the kitchen

To the sewing room.

One of his daughters, Guapalupe

Always daughter and friend

Who lived with her

Was distracted

In a solitary game of the Tarot cards

With the number 22, the two ducklings

"The Crazy"

When she felt the fall

Jumping, instantly, from her chair

Willing to hug her sayiong:

-Mother, what dress do I wear to go to church?

The male nurses of an ambulance

From the Military Hospital Gómez Ulla

Came and took my mother as was convenient

Daniela dying on the road

As always, in these cases, it happened.

When leaving home

The people of the neighborhood

Seeing her on the stretcher, said:

-This woman Daniela, honored

This beautiful grandma

What a pity she was going to the hospital.

-Say to us Guapalupe, pretty

Why are the ambulance drivers taking her?

-My mother is dead

And her spirit has already gone to heaven

To meet my father

Her beloved husband

For to make many new children

"Those who God want"

Act that we will not see

Because Saint Peter, with Dracula's face

Has drawn the curtains

Just now.

© Daniel de Culla

Daniel de Culla is a writer, poet and photographer. He is a member of the Spanish Writers Association, Earthly Writers International Caucus, Poets of the World, (IA) International Authors, Surrealism Art, and other groups. He is director of the Gallo Tricolor Review and the Robespierre Review. He has participated in many festivals of poetry and of theater in Madrid, Burgos, Berlin, Minden, Hannover and Geneva. He has exhibited in many galleries including Madrid, Burgos, London and Amsterdam. He moves between North Hollywood, Madrid and Burgos; e-mail: gallotricolor@yahoo.com