Silence in Juarez

sad guitar strings mourn for the children, robbed from dreams and dancing in fiestas, laughter and smiles erased by hands that are creators of expensive snow the bells toll over sad piñatas, and souls of Aztlan walk the boulevards of the Sun, with tears enough to drown the universe la virgen llora that blood is used as currency and vengeance, to ferry the weak into miles of illusion after tasting ambrosia

menoh

I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...

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