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 G—mez 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
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