DOMINIO











DOMINIO






                                                 Me siento
                                                             vampiro
        succionando
                                   tu hiel…
                                                          Me siento
                           mierda
                                                                           postrada
                                                        a tus pies.
                                                                    Príncipe
                                                                             de los
                        mendigos
                                           de las
                                                          cloacas
                                                                          infectas
                                                          de los
                                            infiernos
                       mordidos
                                                                  y de los que
                                                           todavía
                                         te quedan…
                                                   Envuelta
                                                            en tus
                                                                   harapientos
                       brazos…
                                           Tentáculos
                                                                        amarillentos
                                        que se
               dispersan
                                                                por arriba
                                                       de los
                                            tejados
                                                    y me atrapan
                                                                         a tu
              organismo
                                       postrado...
              Príncipe
de las
                                                              tinieblas
                                                    opacas
                                                             que te
                                                                     ofreces
      al mejor
                       postor
                                         que por ti
                                                                                                          mata…
                                                                                             Apaga tu
                                                                                       fuego
                                                                      en el fango
                                                        del horror
                                                                      y déjame
                   que vuele
                                               por encima
                                                                     de las
                                                                                              montañas
                                                                                                                  pirenaicas:
                                                                                      esos
                                                                    queliodes
                                                exuberantes
                                                                                     que algún
                                                                         residente
                                                           aventajado
                                                    cosió
                                        entre
                                   mi
                                     decadente
                                                  España
                                                           y la Europa
    del horror.
                            Diluye tus
                                                                        excrementos
                                                        abarrotados  de
                                            alucinógenos
                                   y alcohol
                  sempiterno
                                  de algún
                                              antro sin
                                                            tapujos
                                                                       donde
            metes tu
                            boca
                                         en un
                                                          agujero
                                                                                y chupas
                                                             el fluido,
                              desconocido,
                                                                           de otro
                                                               cuerpo…
                                                                          Ese es tu
                reino,
                                ese es
                                                           tu sitio
                                        indecente
                  cual
                                                              noche oscura
                                                  y fosa de
                                        muertos…
                                                Ésos que
                                                            asesinas
                                                                        a golpes
                  con tus
                                 pistolas
                                                      de clavos
                                y tus
               dotes
   siniestros…
                                                      ¡Qué más da!
                                                                             Serán tus
                                 presas
                                                    y por ti
                                                                          morirán…
                                                    Eres un
                              apéndice
                                                                         cubierto de
                                                               porquería,
                                                 un cráneo
                                                               desmembrado,
                          que sin mí,
                                                         sucumbiría…
                            Y después
 te quejas
                                                           porque
                                             tu España
                                  perece…
                                            ¿Cómo no?
                                                            Si sus
                                                                     vivos,
          agonizan
                             entre
                                               bazofia
                                                                     y mentiras…
                                             Y sus
                        muertos
lloran
                                                                  por la
                                                   la infamia
                                           de una
                                     vida
                          inerte.

Anna Genovés
25/04/2012