Munecas de Trapo (ROUND 1)
*Let’s workshop this poem about how, in one hell of a spin on the maxim “no good deed goes unpunished," one man’s show of his deepest gratitude becomes spiritually corrosive to the recipient.
Muñecas de Trapo
You busted his tooth out in a backyard spar and then, beers raised, paid for the dentist
because, border grit still caked into his denim, he lacked coverage—and now the man,
El Flete, punishes your good deed with taboo: kids too damn young to love it this much.
“We need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”—Kafka (against the safe-space cancel culture pushed by anti-art bullies, left and right)
