What Are The Symptoms Of Hot Cheetos

For Camilo Herrera

Before all, I held firmly

gifted to the blanket that covered me.

was blue, and still smelled like my brother.

The squeezed tightly.

hum of wind came through the window.

a song without the author sounded clear.

And with this silence in my ears and my eyes.

Then began the journey. The

sky was split in two.

a tiny spider,

insects began to fall,

The table dancer my door,

was black and white.

And the red sun to pop-

felt hands walking down the back,

a woman from the waist, all purple, with

eyes still, and green hair.

I sweated. She kept running his hands through my skin

abandoned. A dog barked in the desert

Avenue

I have said he suffered from insomnia,

and said she was suffering from love.

The curtains were renamed.

now called hope.

and agitated by a wind that seeped or

out of my broken lungs

danced and moved

revealing a simple night

Bogota, full of silhouettes.

One night abandoned, and smoking

yellow fingers.

came the dawn. And honey flakes fell

cafes

all perfectly round.

pianos falling from the sky.

fell

eighth, fell naked children.

rained tears, and a technician

rained said absences.

watches stopped. The

letters were left running.

A chess game stayed at tables,

and the lady who every day is

in pajamas, now put heels, and lipstick applied.

The bed began to swallow.

Detective, I said it was laziness,

among cups, and hats,

I told him it was nostalgia.

That there were days when nostalgia was suffering

some terrible appetites.

that swallowed everything, and it was unrealistic.

He, with the fingers, called

that broke three eggs.

I ordered a coffee, more coffee than milk.

memories then turned to stone.

Stalactites of unfulfilled dreams.

Lovers

left a pair of socks and left.

The daughter of a friend who liked to see bears

drawn on the wall of his room.

The first death I saw the front,

the first killed at the corner of my house

with a bullet across the middle of the chest,

and another shot which opened the way between the neck and head.

Then began a dizzy spell. Vomiting

without programming.

Sleep next to a bucket.

try sleeping

aside, thinking aside,

lovemaking hand,

eating side.

and vomiting was not choking me.

A dream travel season,

the Amazon, Berlin, Budapest,

Puerto Salgar, Mompox. Visits

four seconds each.

A couple of bars, greeting,

and back to the plane of dreams.

A bottle of rum uncovered

girls playing a firing squad.

1, 2, 3, and the trash can to

fuck the edge of batter.

I dreamed I was a spy,

a subcontractor of the KGB,

ideological

an orphan, a paralytic

with lung problems.

dreamed that came the Carnet de Bolaño dance

and I told him to come down the speed

the old porsche who was at 100 per hour.

Another day down the guard,

and laughing, a new nightmare was coming.

A witch-headed snake, wanted

read my hand, I strove to hide

palms under the pillow,

but every attempt seemed empty, seemed untroubled.

The witch was not stupid,

read my soles,

and instead of saying the future

gave me part of an endless

diseases that swallowed the heart of my beloved acquaintances.

And then, softly,

solo piano began to sound.

The bucket vomiting disappeared,

the blanket from my brother went back

sandpaper.

memories faded,

was born again with nothing,

without language, without a word

unlearned

without friends without family

without my

without you

The woman who appeared with green hair,

of my back was encroaching

and he pulled a dove deformed

mouthfuls of rice at a rate

bored watching television.

After completely woke up,

and everything was in place,

a friend who was smeared on the jacket were

as smearing lotion,

welcomed me,

I told him I felt awesome time step,

and he said, had only

past ten days I missed.

Edison Diaz