Autoconstrucción

http://www.myspace.com/autoconstruccion www.urgentecali.org www.cca-glasgow.com www.covepark.org www.nutsandseeds.org www.commonwheel.org.uk www.kurimanzutto.com http://picasaweb.google.com/enemistad/AutoconstrucciNCCAGlasgow26Oct8Nov2008# http://www.cca-glasgow.com/events/abraham_cruzvillegas.html http://www.cca-glasgow.com/events/abraham_cruzvillegas_film_programme.html http://www.covepark.org/Projects/abrahamcruzvillegas.aspx

I love my hole There is no water There is no street There is no light There is no food There is nothing at all But my cave I love my cave I love my cave I like my hole I like my pit Even when it’s muddy Even when it’s ugly Even when all these rats, Snakes and some other Plagues invade it I want to live here I want to eat here I want to fuck here I want to die here With a tarantula

The girl next door The girl next door She’s a guerrilla girl I don’t even know her real name But I know she’ll not live that long She woke up and she was wearing The same clothes from the previous day A cotton shirt embroidered by hand The same old stone washed jeans The Lee jacket from the flea market And men’s tasteless underwear Her boots smelled really horrible Because she walked very bravely With her feet bleeding all night In a bag made out of an old sugar sack -From Cuba- She kept a lot of pamphlets Printed days before at Doña Jovita’s house There she ate the tasty scrambled eggs Mixed with thin-sliced cactus leaves In a famous recipe from the North But now she’s hungry and tired And totally desperate, But also totally optimistic

Walking and walking My brother’s friend is dead: He was found yesterday Sleeping the eternal sleep He was so young, so funny I wish he had found a way That allowed him to stay Forever as he was Nobody knew he was playing: Throwing into the air so many things At the same time All his emotions and all His doubts became just one: It was a question mark Written after many words As a stupid list of commodities You may find at the street market Of La Bola Walking and walking My life ends up But not the street market Why should I keep walking? Walking and walking My life ends up But not the street market

Succulent Twisting his tongue In a large pipe like manner He sucked the moisture From a pale, pink, thin, Beautiful flower Back on the patio Where the dog is tied. It came out of that plant, That appeared to be dead: A strange thing that I stole From the university After I discovered It’s called a succulent But it looks like an animal. My father hung a feeder for him Under the avocado tree, In the shade, But the humming bird Simply ignored it. There are dahlias, calendulas, Orange and lemon blossoms, And he just ignored them. He preferred to swallow From the juicy flower Of the prehistoric plant. Then we thought it was a lady When a minute nest Hung from a thin branch Of the strange plant There, there was an egg

Tortillas Two, three, four times a day Send me to buy tortillas I always want my quesadillas Even if I have to go again I have to go to the tortilleria So I can see your black round Enormous and thick nipples (Through your blouse) With my sweaty hands I dream about a dry salt taco Rolled there while I see you At the store counter I need to ask you for a kilo Wrapped in brown paper I’m not hungry at all But I’ll go for more

Rock That big rock at the end of my street Was finally broken into small pieces With a noisy and monstrous machine That came from the central office It was a massive piece of volcanic rock A beautiful monolith that erupted out of The earth as a hot thick liquid shake Then it petrified in a silent instant Rock, rock, rock Break the rock Rock and break Move the rock Rock my move Hit it, and lick it Kiss it and love it Every summer there was a natural pond -Muddy and dark- around that gigantic rock And every spring it was just a dry land, Garbage bags with dead animals and dust Then, when it was dynamited into gravel -Into millions of black and red nuggets- A Spanish guy built in its place a furniture store (The first in the neighborhood)

Sniffing glue Here they come: They are The Mischievous They are skinny But they are dangerous You better run Or they will demand From you A lot of beers Until the sunrise She is The Lentil And she’s The Punkiss They dress in black With many spikes They are hungry They are nasty They are sexy They prefer to have nice hairdos To eating, but anyway They can’t Because they have no jobs Here they come: Sniffing glue There they go: All to the blue Don’t leave me alone Punk girl You run away And I’ll go back home

Razzia During the eviction Of the crazy familiy We all went to protest And to defend them We stayed there All night long And for the rest of the days We made a fire outside The shack where they lived With all their furry dogs We sang songs and drank Coffee with alcohol We told tales and jokes Of a humor very dark And we laughed so loud Until the police arrived With the horses and the patrols Then suddenly they got there: People nobody knew Without badges but with guns All of them were taken In a big red van With dark windows Felipe, Toña, Ruben, the professor And many more They hit them with sticks And they broke their ribs They made them bleed They were taken Just kidnapped You took them alive, We want them alive! You took them alive, We want them alive!

Love song We kissed each other Mounted on the back Of a marble lion At the bottom Of the Independence column It was the anniversary Of the massacre of students In 1968 The year of the Olympic games The year I was born You were radiant Smiling with all your teeth Waving your hair Chanting slogans During the march I’ll never forget October 2nd October 2nd Is not to be forgotten

Aprons My mother used to sell pants, School uniforms, shirts, socks, Brassieres, panties, and thongs But she also sold aprons Many women wore them at home But also at big demonstrations They went there with their children To the government offices Screaming, yelling, claiming The right to their lands The land belongs to those who work it That’s what Zapata said That’s why he was betrayed That’s why he was killed But anyway women had to go there To demand to make effective That very specific and urgent right While many men were working At factories, offices, schools Or constructing homes Those who have no fear should step forward to sign this: Ignorance and obscurantism have never produced but flocks of slaves for tyranny It is better to die standing than to live on your knees Land, liberty, and justice

Ramps Blah blah blah blah blah blah Ble ble ble ble ble ble Tatata tututu tetete Racatacatac racatacatac Too too Pa I slip down You slip down Everybody slips Mainly in high heels She broke her ankle At the slippery ramp You never know When you will slip You may break your nose You may break your ass The wheel chair works fine Up and down Happily and fast But all the rest slips Blah blah blah blah blah blah Ble ble ble ble ble ble Tatata tututu tetete Racatacatac racatacatac Too too Pa

With or without you I fell apart when you said goodbye to me I didn’t understand why you left When we were just building the house Our own place made with our own hands Without money, without plans Without everything, but love We invaded it: yes we took that land We placed the first black heavy stone In a corner, next to that infamous crack Where the pork we bought got lost With or without you, I’ll finish the house My own place made with my own hands I’ll just miss you on every sunny Sunday While going to my favorite market place To eat a delicious hot and spicy tripe soup

Meche Carreño I was brushing my teeth Thinking of you And about the dreams We had together Loving each other Living together Having children Making the house a home Slowly, like caressing The back of a mule When suddenly the sink Fell to the floor It was a cheap one Not a second hand sink But one my father won In a raffle in the Esto newspaper By answering questions About Meche Carreño It fell to the floor And the devil licked it No body can wash their hands No body can just spit in it It took us a year to by a new one

Concrete mix (For an acid house) 10 bags of cement powder 20 buckets of sand 10 gallons of water and some bottles of beer 100 iron rods 10 kilos of nails 2 square shovels and corrugated steel sheets Then you can shake it Shake it shake it Baby Don’t throw away The bottles nor the caps Because we will use them Only God knows what for Perhaps to staple Perhaps to nail Or just to put them On the top of a wall Then you can shake it Shake it shake it Baby Then take me in your arms

The Route of Enmity The collective transportation goes fast Playing people’s favorite music Cumbia salsa and reggaeton Merengue ska and rock and roll It takes me to you But passing in front Of Statues, squares, sculptures And ugly monuments I want to jump out and throw a rock Against the façade Of the Human Rights office: It’s so offensive… My stomach wants to empty itself At the bottom of a public art piece Made forty years ago On the peripheral highway Even my house it’s not so bad Compared with all this urban shit Modern projects and loft buildings Pretending to be nice I would prefer to live in a desert Without water without eating Instead of having to see this I would live even without you

Heart of glass I thought I was so experienced Until that very night When the dark shadows came Menacing my peaceful empty life Throw the first rock over me I’ll throw all my life on you I’m a stone, I’m a rock I’m a piece of solid lava Some stones are softer than others But almost all of them break in pieces While hitting my obsidian head My head of flint and turquoise Wild berries grew on my head Some grass embraced me with Their roots like ropes, like ties Making me stronger and smooth They came and went, they left me, They stayed, but no rock could be Stronger than my head of stone A stone that is black, thick and sharp

La cama de piedras Te tomo de la mano Beso tu muñeca (Y tu hombro) Me atasco en tus axilas Y retozo entre tus tetas Tus ingles me emocionan Te agarro las petacas Y de una mordida Te arranco los calzones Te rasco en el ombligo Te froto la rayita El cuello y los pezones Y tu coño quiero lamer Quiero deslizarme Por tu cuerpo encuerado Para morirme estupefacto Ahogado en tu saliva Al día siguiente Me voy de nuevo A picar piedra Para poder construir La que será Tu recámara Porque te amo

Mr. Xitle That morning, Oh that morning I was just peeling an opossum When everything got hot I ran to ask my wives and my children If they too were feeling the heat But they had already been burnt My house was on FIRE Oh yes on FIRE Oh yes in flames The neighbour’s yard Was erupting melting stones Burning rocks and damn shit lava All his turkeys were set on fire All his dogs were barking mad And exploding like a rocket blast Poor Mr. Xitle: he lost everything Oh yes! Even his pyramid As we all did