The avenida branches off 
like the spine of a fishbone, 
someone painted facades
with hooker’s make up:
lively alleys 
to mask that the plaster
looks a disaster 

“Brother, can you bail me out ? 
spare me a couple of hours” 

Sitting in despair 
head in the sun, legs in the rain 
guts in the grip of hunger’s pain 
you crossed the white gaze of a zombie,
lazy moves
in the corner of your eye
tell yourself that cosy lie 
there’s no way to empathize 
with who’s long gone

Who’s born zombie can dream 
but in the jaws of poverty 
you shall not sleep,
for a kiss of absence 
honest man, be fair!
if you were zombie 
what would you dare?