Who Are You, Little Virgin? / Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo
Poor little doll made of tinsel and wood, so battered across the long and narrow stretch of thousands and thousands of kilometers. Last night, I saw her in Lawton, and it was daunting. Because of her, and because of the bleak surroundings. A neighborhood polluted from the disposition of its inhabitants to the sky that … Continue reading “Who Are You, Little Virgin? / Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo”