IF I WERE MAY

If all calendar events

were sim-sima-sima-ló with fallen leaves

and

two little black kids

winding the hips

towards the dawn

with or without a moon

on the roof of the world

with the son of the “Zopilote”

that draws

his yard and a half

against the daughter

of Mrs. Halfie and shique shaque shiqui shaque

pushing pushing and pushing

until…

then we would have enough reason

to contemplate things

from the upside-down angle

of the bat

hanging from the ceiling of the universe

loaded of days including also

May the 1st.

worldwide:

with parades

posters

poster holders

protesters

expounded words

(a)ston-nished words

yet un-heard un-loved —wrecked

inside the pride

of so many workers

that although being such

haven’t eat any bread

nor sweat from the forehead

nor have a salary increase

neither new promotions

towards the old habit of making money

within the rallys and protests

because of mayaya lasique má-yaya-o

with the cop’s feet

dancing unintentionally: sin-sáima-sima-ló

then I would dance

happy

in the center of the May wheel

with my dance, watering from itself

and my loneliness

All One with the Spring Rain

finally in understanding of Nature

Understanding the voice of people

—which is the voice of God—

Shouting from the top of a Maypole:

Mayaya lasique máyaya-ooo.