IN HIGH SEA
With each of my front oars
Caressing the waves
Of San Vicente de la Barquera
In Cantabria
With my thumb, index finger, middle finger
Ring, earpiece or little finger
The palm of my hand and my wrist
I reached the high seas
Far from the beach.
On my right hand an olive grove
Where a shipwreck disappeared
That will never come back.
In the sky, a star
That looked like a clock hand.
In the gentle swell of the waves
Cards floated together and rigged
Hair from the girls' Mount of Venus
That I dreamed of carding them.
Six or eight locks of hair
Tangled between my fingers.
Going around to recognize the place
How hunters or hunters do when hunting
I saw a little boat drifting
Forsaken by God’ hand
With three naked females
Without head or tail
That it came to me without having looked for it
Although I had already guessed
When with my carnal telescope
Swimming belly up
I saw that, opportunely, it was coming towards me.
There were three asses with two arms
Like those they sell in Sexshops
That protesters come to buy
From a street protest
After suspending it
For not getting anything clean
And be able to console themselves with these.
Suddenly, when I least thought about it
They came to my mouth
Giving them the latest jobs
To finish them off
Shaking hands one ass with another.
Under the sea, the boat sank
Rosing like a
balloon to the sky
In a very short time, exclaiming:
-The tambourines are in good hands
And you take care of that your right hand
That does the rooster take.
Give the rooster
And feathers remain in your hand
Bloody hell!!
-Daniel de Culla