El hombre que barre UN trazo herido de la noche. This, I imagine, is morning. The smell of animal, knife smothering its sob. The man who sweeps away a wounded line of night. The building speechless before the moon, the princess, leaves men alive, lying in wait for the minute hand.
Someone buries dreams in their pillow, blood dancing vertical anew.
Night's dead time clears in the murmur of graffiti and traffic lights. Bio Jen Hofer is originally from the San Francisco Bay Area and currently lives in Mexico City where she is editing and translating an anthology of contemporary poetry by Mexican women, which will be co-published by University of Pittsburgh Press and Hotel Ambosmundos Press in 2001. Exquisite Corpse - If you experience difficulties with this site, please contact the webmistress .