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The lighthouse at the end of the world

Now we are at the ultimate end of the earth...
in an inaccessible wasteland.
Aeschylus

I’ve turned and seen it
anchored to the depths
of my eyes,
where night ends
and mists begin:

a blackened dog
beaten over and over
by the wild frenzy of petrol,

a dog whose hair is all bristles
barking with crazed abandonment.

And no one answers.

barra azul

© 2009 Jorge Palma - labrador@jorgepalma.com.uy - www.jorgepalma.com.uy