I have a backbone – when I’m in unfamiliar surroundings I’m a stoic
I have a backbone – when I’ve swallowed a snake
I have a backbone – when I lie on the road’s dividing line
I have a backbone – when I winter in the tree wearing my father’s coat
I have a backbone – when I lean on eternity’s boundary marker
my face turned toward the sun’s udder
I have a backbone – when I walk barefoot in the hospital ward
I have a backbone – when the shaman shoots it at the squirrel
I have a backbone – when I embrace the trolley station’s pole without a schedule
I have a backbone – when at midnight I sacrifice my sweat to Tlazolteotl
my backbone – a ladder to the anthill tower
my backbone – a hair broken by a nail
my backbone – the lamancha of catastrophe uniting father and mother
my backbone – a boulder crushing roller
pulled farther offshore by seals
my backbone – a poison gas capsule swallowed by the sea
only a hanger for keys to the morgue of loneliness
my backbone – a pole of sulphur sulfide in the pit of the ocean
around which in the lava’s light dance drunken mollusks
my backbone – in the grass of childhood watered by dungwash
when with my brother clinging to lapels
we shook down the lights in the August dusk
we buried them
we were successful I wasn’t seen
that was the case
EN 
MK