Una Vuelta Más

Piazzolla cries for his urban moss
with exhaust fumes and the smell of pizza
so many Sundays and so many people in that sun ...
With shouting kids and horizontal trains,
the traffic lights don’t know about justice.
Huguito the bachelor dies crucified
on a Toyota radiator
and in the parks some parents
worried,
paint on a clown's smile,
to cheer up their innocent kids,
to their innocent kids
and that sun of the heroes blooms
in deception, a deception of swings,
slides and popcorn.
Poetry isn’t in Buenos Aires
but in those who live it, suffer it, and enjoy it.