Biaba

I had already told her: 'Leave work
without finishing the shift, come home.
It's not that I'm jealous, I swear,
but if you're not here... I don't know what happens...'

'If you're late, I'm scared
that you got into a fight at the milonga,
you know there's always a tough guy...
And I'll mess you up good, you damn face...'

But she forgot, dirty and drunk,
she arrived around nine, the girl,
to follow the party of a mishetón.

The steaks -the neighbors told me-
seemed like applause, seemed like,
from a gala night at the Colón.