Fernando Delgadillo
Miscellaneous
At the Midday Sun
The midday sun
over the capital
gives the peripheral
a middle eastern heat < br/>the long caravan
of cars waiting
for the one in front to advance
yes, to continue walking
in this endless line
that is leaving.
It suddenly reminded me of the city
where Ali Baba lives.
The cars stop
I wait a long time
I look around me and feel
my shoe is burning,
the beautiful girl ahead
that combs his hair
and the old man on my left
makes the face of a camel
and on the radio, my favorite presenter
says: love, how hot.
Oh! brother, brother how hot it is in the peripheral zone when the sun melts the exhaust smoke from the cars that I breathe fills my head br/>and I am a victim of mirages.
The posts are palm trees,
the streets are sand dunes
and they are divided by ivory stripes.
Oh! Jalil
I see mysterious faces
among the drivers
that hide more secrets
than a den of thieves,
flute mysteries
that would make a dance worm
Save that one that looks
like a hashish smoker
Because there are merchants
who offer convenient
and exotic objects and aromas
from the Middle East ,
and here the merchants
find abundant
merchandise and contraband
from their street stalls
between this smell
and people walking
under the sun,
under the sun.
Oh! brother,
brother, it's hot,
it's on the outskirts
when the sun sets,
the cars don't move
and I feel my breath dry,
I can't stand the clothes, the wait, or the seat.
The long caravan
of cars waiting
for the one in front to advance,
yes to continue walking
and slowly climbing
the concrete dunes, < br/>Friday traffic
and the heat of the pavement
of these April days.

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