Dictators: Pablo Neruda

An odor has remained among the sugarcane: a mixture of blood and body, a penetrating petal that brings nausea. Between the coconut palms the graves are full of ruined bones, of speechless death-rattles. The delicate dictator is talking with top hats, gold braid, and collars. The tiny palace gleams like a watch and the rapid... Continue Reading →


Every year, chemical pesticides kill no fewer than three million farmers. Every day, workplace accidents kill no fewer than ten thousand workers. Every minute, poverty kills no fewer than ten children. These crimes do not show up on the news. They are, like wars, normal acts of cannibalism. The criminals are on the loose. No... Continue Reading →

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