DANIEL DE CULLA

 

 

Grandparents' Dance

 

It's the dance of the groom's parents

In a game of happy steps

With smiles and love

In a beautiful pasodoble

That makes us enjoy

Because it's the gallant party

Of the newlyweds

Who carry so much illusion

In their hearts.

Dancing, we have followed their steps

To see if they finish

With that grace and gallantry

Like that day

When they got married

Knowing that married life

Is of diapers and mantillas.

The waiters have moved tables and chairs

So that we can sit down.

They sit

They coo lovingly

And a couple, a friend of theirs

Joyfully tell me

Which I am sitting next to:

-Daniela is a hard-working woman

And, still, very pretty.

She is very well preserved

And she has had nine children!

Daniel, a very beloved man

You look at him and admire him

Guessing in his gaze

That Daniela still

Stole his heart.

 

The Jupiter’ Scepter

 

That girl from Las Palmas de Gran Canaria

Who I chose to have sex with

Put a mechanical device in her cunt

Made with tin lips.

Ouch, ouch, ouch!

I, Silvano, like a brave and bizarre satyr

Like an erect and horny donkey

Or a god riding his donkey

Came to the battle of Love.

Before entering it

I was already cumming with pleasure

And the erection was taking me where it wanted.

What a good feed she was going to give me!

I already tore off the tin lips

Of that beautiful and conceited womant

With two gigantic tits.

I already unhinged her Mount of Venus.

The combat was going to be very bloody.

I felt it from that ejaculation

That I introduced red

My hands placed on the poles of her ass

My glans reaching the roof of her vagina

Broken, going through all that junk.

She just shuddered.

Her two tits trembled.

Ouch, ouch, ouch!

You're breaking it, man!

My ovaries are bursting!

Enraged, I already ejaculated in her like a donkey.

She had a hesitant orgasm.

When I pulled out, I was stunned

Slipping and falling

From her mons pubis.

Her tin pussy hurt my member

Swelling excessively

Having to go to the Hospital

So that a urologist could see me

Like a puppet with a huge penis

And with a headache.

Damn the hour when I put

That whore Etna's cunt on as a hat

For I was thrown into her carnal hell

By joyfully wounding her by penetrating her

A trace or relic of her remained:

A shaving of her tin lips

In the middle of my balls.

The doctor who attended me

Was amazed by such swelling

Asking me the address of this whore

Exclaiming:

This penis looks like Jupiter's scepter!

Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

 

America Great Again

 

When the dawn spreads its mantle

And the firmament dresses in red or blue

There are no two disturbed eyes

Or disabled people who shine so much

Like Trump crazy goat

Serial God’s whoreman

Or Biden's sleepy old pisser.

Beautiful people sleep in arms

Of Trump's false faith

Or wake up if they are asleep

Because Biden has peed close to them

Listening to the song of the two:

“America great again”

Composed by Trump with music

From an Argentine chainsaw

Or bombs that explode in hospitals

From Palestinian children

From Yemen, from Lebanon, Syria

And other parts of the World

With the approval of serial killers

That they dominate us and that, happy

Sing to their wives or concubines:

“Blonde, black, or brunette

Give me a carnation.

Give me the carnation from your ass’ mouth.

For that you don't have to have

Too much shame, not too little.

Just to have faith and a good prick.”

 

The Turnips Orchard

 

The Convent had a garden

Everything planted with turnips

Highlighting a somewhat red turnip

That looked like the member

From my uncle Nicolás

That he put between my thighs

When he rode me on a horse

Almost every day

When he came to visit us

Telling me that he took me

Along the Camino de Santiago.

Since I was white, very pretty

Some nuns cajoled me

To go to study at the Convent

And know the beloved Jesus

The exalted son of God

That he is the only one who our way

Of miseries and sins

Can illuminate.

Taking care of the garden

The nuns had Don Gonzalo

Who also acted as sacristan

Who was expelled on the day

When the mother superior

Ordered me to go to the garden for turnips

“Appreciable for its nutrients

And, above all, for vitamin C

Necessary for growth

And normal development”

Don Gonzalo forcing me

To catch his turnip

Which was medium size

Similar to my uncle Martín's

As a Cantimpalos sausage.

Mother superior gave us permission

To catch him by the leg

After hitting him with a stick

In his parts

And throw him on the path that leads

To the San Juan’ hermitage.

 

DANIEL DE CULLA

 

DANIEL DE CULLA: Writer, poet, painter and photographer. Member of the Collegiate Association of Spanish Writers, Earthly Writers International Caucus, Poets of the World, (IA) International Authors, Surrealism Art, Friends of The Blake Society, Nietzsche Circle and others. Director of Gallo Tricolor Review and Robespierre Review. He has participated in numerous Poetry and Theater Festivals, has collaborated and collaborates with various magazines and newspapers such as: Otoliths; The Stray Branch, Down in the Dirt Magazine, Allien Buddha Zine, The Poet Magazine, Uppagus, ReSite, GloMag, Fleas on the Dog, LAROLA, RAL'M, Misery Tourism, Leavings, The Creative Zine, Terror House Press; and other national ones: Pluma y Tintero, Letras de Parnaso, Revista Azahar, Cultura de Veracruz; Vericuetos,  Sol Cultural Center, etc.