Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Armando Romero

My Childhood

I too was present when my childhood disappeared. With a fat cluster of prayers the hissing whip cut through the street where I used to drag my
stones or search for beetles. My childhood did not mention the blue begonias not the other plants on the patio, it just went away, climbing up
that ladder leading to the attic. It repented the furtive glance at the neighbor girl\'s breasts and it crushed the cigarette against one of the
lamp posts. My childhood was no longer there when the patrol car came to pick it up.

MI INFANCIA

MI INFANCIA

Yo también al desaparecer mi infancia estuve presente. Con un grueso
hato de oraciones y un látigo sibiloso se cortó esa calle por
donde arrastraba las piedras o bus-caba escarabajos. No dijo de
azules begonias ni de las otras matas en el patio, se fue como
trepando por esa escalera que llevaba al abovedado. Se arrepintió
de una mirada furtiva a los senos de la niña vecina y aplastó el
cigarrillo contra uno de los postes del alumbrado. Mi infancia ya
no estaba allí cuando vino el radiopatrulla a buscarla.
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My Childhood

I too was present when my childhood disappeared. With a fat cluster of prayers the hissing whip cut through the street where I used to drag my
stones or search for beetles. My childhood did not mention the blue begonias not the other plants on the patio, it just went away, climbing up
that ladder leading to the attic. It repented the furtive glance at the neighbor girl\'s breasts and it crushed the cigarette against one of the
lamp posts. My childhood was no longer there when the patrol car came to pick it up.

My Childhood

I too was present when my childhood disappeared. With a fat cluster of prayers the hissing whip cut through the street where I used to drag my
stones or search for beetles. My childhood did not mention the blue begonias not the other plants on the patio, it just went away, climbing up
that ladder leading to the attic. It repented the furtive glance at the neighbor girl\'s breasts and it crushed the cigarette against one of the
lamp posts. My childhood was no longer there when the patrol car came to pick it up.
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