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Carabanchel Prison

A history enters
-torn fences there to entertain the guards
And of all ages, no names. Mahou

and butts,
plastic bags, condoms,
and climbing on the walls of Memories: History
We are in ruins.

Carabanchel Prison
How well dressed. Memory
solid sound in your gut
bones.

Prison prisons

As Madrid resist cell and no bars, no walls, no ceilings ...

Carabanchel in rubble
look like a joke.
remember the prisoners of ideas
What today are destroying the children of his jailers. Carabanchel

rubble,
blurred,
Injury dignity.
you miss the story
For all the cracks.

Carabanchel Prison,
want to condemn the worst of all prisons:
The oblivion.

But fear not.
We are preparing your escape.

Madorrán Carmen Ayers, October 2008.

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revert to the two in the morning.

Today I

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has sparked a fire siren, and you see where it was the first time I went. I left the hall where so many students, with the same question on the faces still attached, looked at the alarm-over-dyed red intermittently corridor. A parade of pajamas later, have fixed the error. Because I have not said, but fire, none.

Then, for not checking the pockets of the pants, I got a ticket for five dollars in the washer. And that is how I have always said at home: money is the dirtiest out there.

And almost without realizing it, fall has fallen on the city, and rain, absorbing daring my pants, soak the leaves green, brown, red and yellow.
The window is always open and the curtain flies today is barely distinguishable from heaven.

Enjoy the day, every minute. For not only does not return but to be ... forever.

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Island



almost hear it



Is not that right?



the end the din of cars on the street, people, the silence of your room at any time.



If you rest a bit on the seat and turn off the music ...



Have not you listen? Gently lower eyelids.



And there it is. The sound of millions of fish while saying sea sea sea sea Tues



Slowly, smiling, sometimes almost blue salty, dripping with foam ...







And that's the vast, still remember, where my sadness comes and homage to those who have been anchored in an August 20.

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There are places that catch you both, to return results more difficult to climb a mountain in house slippers. Yes, the kind of plush.

We each have our own. A few are about shopping, others with football stadiums, a city-I have to admit Madrid is trying to create me-addiction, even for the car, or a bed ... My place, one is called Villacarriedo.

For those who know him, know that I speak. For those who do not know, not know that I speak up you go, so I save the description.

For now, say I'm coming. And I hope you have enjoyed special July 1. Brazos