• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 07

A Conversation With Mr. Landaverde On My Guilt

this guilt, sir, i can't help
i see the boat sinking and i too sink
deeper into my couch. oh, this comforting nest
hardens with the bullet i don't hear,
and the tear gas i don't inhale.
i am—

ungrateful. beyond the blood graffitis of Caracas,
beyond the raging rivers and tanks
of the cities you once loved unconditionally.


you. sit in this tower, built from backbone
and sacrifice. hold no burden and all burden
like a feeling could reign supreme and Make A Difference.


Better men than you have Tried.
Better women have Tried and seen their hopes
to stampedes of frightened bodies
whose belief in revolution vanished with the gunshot
and gave way for those behind them to perish with their hope.



A Conversation With Mr. Landaverde On My Guilt

You, think yourself saviour. You think yourself people,
They once did too you know, and you know nothing of Loss.
True loss. You're a snowflake in the desert of our history,
    A farce A gringo A shadow of what you believe you should feel.


True Loss!

Lose Your Brother To The Revolution And Then! Entertain Survivor's Guilt.

Lose Your Mind To The Revolution And Then! Tell Me Of The Ways You Sink. Fool...


in that golden room i lost my mind

entertaining the loss of my sister

i cried for hours

never felt guilt again.