‘I’m going to Salvador Allende, the walkers say…’ Eduardo Galeano
We were tragedy created by USA-CIA
Nixon and Kissinger the horror strategists of 11.
in the streets of the town
on those ceilings that were the anteroom
of eyes announcing flames, fire
bursts and shadows of evil
in that Santiago of 1973.
They were forbidden parks
We pecked like birds against the walls of oppression
We were bleeding in the crust of death.
Some time later 1976 came the street theater
We went out like love puppets
Undressing fear in that amateur actor dialogue
Through the streets, churches and unions
Courage was staged at the moon.
The hidden smile came out again
behind the windows of so much break-in
soldiers shot at the sunsets of September.
We were the re-incarnation of Juan Rulfo in that Santiago of 1973.
I remember when I read: ‘Comala’,
It wasn’t just reading, we talked
Between dead and alive.
The pain was truncated spring.
‘Every sigh is like a sip of life that one gets rid of’ *
Juan Garrido Salgado 2019 ©