The Energumen

"Así como el brazo del atardecer es vencido por su contrincante, el tiempo, y se va combando hacia su nocturnal ocaso..."

The neighbors of Palo Alto, California know this effigy of meat

White at night
red in the middle of the day.


Its eyes are milk, its teeth are made of the gold of Beersheba, its heart is a yellow plastic bomb.



Its hair is blonde wool, like that of the Sicilian cherubim: fiend or crow, the neighbors prefer to call it THE ENERGUMEN, just a minor demon of the anthology.


Every now and again he shows at the gates of the town, its enormous, orange and shiny head laughs

its canine paws laugh

its mouth laughs

its torso laughs:

suddenly, a touch of its tail turns a fridge full of cans of Coca Cola into platinum

the neighbors celebrate the occurrence and throw laurels and roses at the Energumen

it laughs, with that laughter proper of the entities that are not human, like the robotobors, or the Terminators


because it is only a minor demon of the anthology: a creature of the nature.






In signalled days, like Christmas or the 4th of July, the Energumen walks around the town with its electric feet, dressed like a patriot of the ancient and holy days gone: using the flag as pants


the neighbors throw pears & bottles of Mazola oil at him, sufficient victual for its dinner

its galvanized toenails scratch the ground in amorous thanksgiving: 



its stare ascends to the skies of the God of the humans, soft like the mayonnaise

it observes the Lamb, who is seated at the right hand of the Father

the Lamb absolves it from its venial sins, as the town is blessed with the Monsoon.



The Energumen runs and plays among the thistles, in the brown summers: its little wings emit an aroma that smells like garlic and afrechillo.

L'été indien brings strange modulations to its erect ears, while it enjoys its sweet infancy.










One day the Energumen will disappear, and another demon will rise in its place

a bigger god, black, fat and serene

a god that cannot be named.