THE TWELVE GRAPES OF NEW YEAR’S EVE

The twelve grapes are wishes and desires

All full of seeds

But not hair.

There are brutes and animals

Who swallow them whole

Even with tails.

Today is New Year’s Eve

Even in the farmyards

Where the main hen

Has stopped laying eggs

Because Uncle Kiriko’s rooster

Has not come to see her

And has gone off on a tangent

To gather nests

Or to visit new lands

Where the hens will crow again:

-The rooster has come

He will not leave.

There is a mountain woman there who tells me:

-Sir, there is nothing like the mountains.

Beginning to comment:

The old year is going away

A disastrous year

Full of evil and hatred.

Even Nature itself

Has shown itself cruel

To the most defenseless

Leaving the savages and murderers

Rampaging in their ways

Playing at making war.

My granddaughter married a donkey

Who was self-employed in a butcher shop.

They went to the wedding mass

And the groom, without any consideration

She fucked the priest.

This coming New Year

I suspect it will be the same or worse

The only thing left safe is:

The grumbling

The scolding

The screwing of the neighbor

And fucking whether you want to or not

That is mandated by the Law of God.

One year after another

They are all the same.

They cannot be patched

Only the bag for Peace is patched.

-Daniel de Culla