The near-death experience (NDE) came to me when, one afternoon, I went down to the beach of San Vicente de la Barquera, in Cantabria, when the beach was empty, the sea was rough and there was a red flag.
Drunk as I was on Hijoputa (son of the beach) brand honey brand, I went into the water, when suddenly, the waves caught me and dragged me towards the center of the sea, without being able to reach the sand of the beach due to the tiredness and exhaustion of my limbs that did everything possible to save me.
For me this was a lucid event, because I saw myself compromised with Death, since I knew that physically I would die if nobody came to rescue me, swallowing all the water of the sea with all its filth.
With almost no detectable heartbeat, and no breathing due to the water and algae that swallowed me, I traveled through a tunnel, observing a bright light, meeting a mythical being: Genghis Khan, who told me: -I’m meeting the neighbors; accompanied by Musk and Trump, who talked about the Big Con (big scam), and Frankenstein and Dracula, all of them united by mutual gravitational attraction, who were happy to see me alive, and talked about the NDE (Near Death Experience), listening to Genghis who told us:
-We live here now. Here and there, we live in a constant struggle between the Economic Damage Threshold (EDT), referring to the population density in which the costs of incurring a genocide equals
the benefits of not controlling the sale of weapons; and the Threshold of Action (TOA), referring to the population density in which a control action must be carried out, even by killing, to prevent the EDT from
being reached.
I got away from these four firecrackers, addressing Genghis, the fertile man, who fathered more than a thousand children with his main wife, with minor wives and concubines that he incorporated into his
flock thanks to his conquests, father of humanity, the “star cluster”, who had a goshawk peeking out of his fly, the most alert among the dead.
Most plausibly and arrogantly he grabbed me by the balls in the style that Musk and Trump do with women, forcing me to compose, in the shortest time possible, a poem, which I wrote with seaweed ink and a seagull feather on the back of a Nice of the north (Thunnus alalunga), but not before he told me:
-In the afterlife, the souls of mortals float in the infinite void-like wandering stars; the ones that illuminate the most are those of psychopaths and serial killers, occupying the best places in stellar space. Those of other mortals are the turds that float in swamps, ponds, rivers or seas, and cling to water like ticks.
I was dumbfounded. And, when I tried to break the hawk’s neck, he ordered me:
-Come on! Write the poem.
I answered him, making a mistake in my words, because instead of saying: “Yes, my star cluster,” I said: “Yes, my star joke,” without him getting very angry because I was about to drown completely.
This was the poem I composed for him:
GENGHIS KHAN RESURRECTED
Genghis Khan, remembered Mongol
“Mongolo” moron, psychopath par excellence
Great Khan, a great dog of Yinchuan
From the Republic of China
Admired serial killer leader
From Eastern Europe
To the Pacific Ocean
And from Siberia to Mesopotamia
India and Indochina
He has been incarnated in some humans:
The favorites, the chosen ones
Since the times of the Printing Press
As we see it
In the History of the times
In our emperors, kings, tsars
Dictators, presidents and heads of state
Whose label is mass extermination
And famine
As announced to us, in his day
A dwarf King Kong
Who died for our sins
On his deathbed.
Already as a child, Chinguis Jaan
That was the name of the guy Genghis Khan
When he was going up some stairs
He got dizzy and fell to the ground
And his group of friends told him:
-Chinguis, don't be so mean
Be very brave
You were born to rape and kill at random.
He believed it wholeheartedly
Growing up among murders:
That of his brother and his best friend
Rapes of women
Whom he raped three times a week
Cutting off their clitorises with his sword
Making necklaces for himself
And for his warriors who killed the most.
He liked, well, what he loved the most
Was cutting off heads and watching them roll
Screaming these: -Bastard, murderer
You do nothing but nonsense.
His hatred of the Moors was infinite
As is shown today in the nations
Who elect at the polls, or outside of them
Serial killers to govern them
Before, for the desire to steal their jewels
And, today, to steal their oil.
He built pyramids
With corpses and mortal remains
As are seen today made
On the ruins of Palestine
Lebanon, Syria, Ukraine and other nations.
They say that, one day
He went inside his tent.
He peeked through a crack
Seeing one of his warriors coming
Who was approaching him
Fucking his most youthful mare in the ass.
-What did this great murderous Khan do?
He cut off the head of his youthful mare
Putting his brand-new sword
In the back side of the warrior
His brand new sword, on the fly.
A fact that was praised by their conquered peoples
As today they praise the actions
Of these exalted serial killers
With rap music
Sound of chainsaws or sirens
For refugees and other uprooted people
Who hides underground.
Picture by poet
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