We love you because you will do whatever to wineven if that means demeaning yourself from means.
We love you because you are the horse that bucks
and debrains an heiresses that’s escaped
with blueprints for the Star-blowing-up-stars.
We love you because you are our father’s
Mother, mother’s father, a decoy in the blind
that doesn’t know when to shut up,
stop quacking, relent, callate la puta boca.
Suárez: te amamos por que you are a Dark Vader
of Incisors, viejo! We love you as Periodontal Peronists!
Like, quien te manda darle un jab a Gonzalo Jara
en el pinche World Cup, in the penalty box,
only to be detected on Closed-Circuit Host?
Who has sent you to elude the linemen and
referees? Quien le puede detonar some equanimity
a este Uruguayan Thug Euclidian?
And what about those ridiculous things you were alleged
to have muttered to Evra? And what about what drove you
to bite Bakkal in the shoulder while you stormtrooped
for Ajax in the Eredivisie? Loco, don’t they have Law & Order
reruns in your neck of the woods to learn you some Forensics?
A salubrious bite on the skin of another can funaticize your aura.
Luisito, por fi, dejate de morder a tus oponientes
don’t you see that Passion has no mandible like that of Colossus
that droves of goals for Liverpool make you hungry like the wolf
terse like the Vindictive Futbol Pharaoh, recondite like a subcutaneous gopher
a joker of a spoiled sport, a Uruguayanillionaire dreaming of grinding
the shoulder out of existence, the overbite into a sort of circulation only the infirm
can respond to. But, what might you take for uncontrollable gnashing, gnawing,
gnarlying? What side effects are conjured by the manic carnivore overstepping his reach
with ends all about the ends and not the manner of play, the honor of an eloquence technique.
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