I cannot imagine anyone shrugging his shoulder, turning away unseeing, and sauntering off, whistling.
Hunger looks like the man that hunger is killing.
The man looks like the tree the man is killing. The trees have arms, the people, branches. The trees and the people, ageless. This world is so sad that the rainbows come out in black and white and so ugly that the vultures fly upside down after the dying. Como la mugre por el lavadero.