Cursie
Barro Blanco
I started playing music on plastic buckets
Swinging the hips from the right to the left
Drums away the thoughts
Just the rithem of the plastic tons and different sizes of buckets
a hollow deep sound
asked for my full presence
for a second the body and mind joined
I got out of the second bus
Barro Blanco
the miss of the little white church was about to start
at the same moment people gathered from all sides
I wanted a beer
A man tried to convince me to take another drink because it was cold
When he saw me drinking the beer
he went off to the church
I saw the priest arrive with the car
One meter bellow the ground there is white mud
to make plates
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