El Centipede

Chamaco is sitting in a chair,
pulling off his centipede legs,

two at a time.
This goes on for a long time.

As he snaps them off
only a trickle of blood

falls from each severed limb.
He flinches,

but otherwise
he exhibits no pain.

Finally, with only
two legs left,

he smiles, he gets up
and walks away.


from a new series of poems
entitled Chamaco's Chingaderas