We be happy folks.

“I don't know, I don't care, and it doesn't make any difference.” 

Jack Kerouac .

A kid stays home and hangs on to his TV,
this city keeps happening and murdering pretty moments,
While the beaches get uglier and crowded,
we wonder if a new president will do a good job,
if the lady from the cafeteria will be nice today
and if this headaches have anything to do with how everything smells here.

A man walks in the streets only to get mugged.
A man walks in the streets just to be called a fagot.
A woman rides a public car to get to work only to be disrespected every day.
A man throws his garbage into the sidewalk and goes about his day.
Every policeman is an insignificant petty thief.
Every policeman is an armed and very angry human being.
Dembow rises and rises, merengue keeps dying and dying.
Rum and cocaine flooding the narrow streets of the colonial zone.
Couples stopped dancing a long time ago and Omega is a celebrity.

Big plates of ignorance with a side of fried plantains are served on the streets,
whinny people daring to talk about film and music
and fanboys making their unnecessary points constantly
and most just hiding behind a computer screen.

A man pees on the street everyday and goes about his life,
small children high on cheap cement wash windshields to get that next fix,
the captains of the obvious have always a lot to do and the musicians get bored,
another man pulls out his gun mainly because of his small prick
another woman gets slapped around and beaten as pasolas do what they please,
everybody curses the Haitians, they smell and steal people say
and cars keep going a million hours an hour in la 27 de Febrero.

A city in decay while we all get drunk and high,
a city dying and we make fun of it.
Come on, that's what we do, us the dominicants.
We be happy folks.