Cartoons Bigger Booty Larger

The sky is ash.
The trees are white, and are black coals

burnt stubble.


dried blood has wound sunset, and the role colorless
Mount
wrinkled.


road dust is hiding in the ravines, are the sources

and still murky backwaters. Sounds

a reddish gray
shearing of the flock, and the wheel

mother finished her rosary.

The sky is ash,
trees are white.

Federico García Lorca

Manolo Sanlucar, Carmen Linares