Tough guys don´t dance.

"Tough guys don't dance.
Tough guys arrive to bordering towns at dusk
Tough guys have no money, they waste money, look for some money
at tiny humid rooms.
Tough guys don't wear pyjamas
Tough guys have large and hard cocks that time cuts and softens
Tough guys grab their cocks with one hand and take long leaks over
cliffs and deserts
Tough guys travel on cargo trains throughout the large spaces
of Northamerica.
The large spaces of B series movies.
Violent movies in which the major is infamous and the sheriff a son of a bitch and things
are going from bad to worse
Till tough guys appear shooting all over the place
Chests broken by thick caliber bullets get projected
towards us
like hosts of ultimate redemption
Tough guys make love with waitresses
in poorly decorated women rooms
And leave before sunrise.
Tough guys travel on miserable transportations throughout
large spaces of Latin America
Tough guys share the landscapes of the journey and
the melancholy of the journey with pigs and hens.
Behind, they leave forests, plains, mountains like
shark teeth, nameless rivers, vain efforts
Tough guys gather up memory crumbs
without complaining
We've eaten, they say, we've fucked, we've been drugged,
we've chatted till sunrise with true friends
What else can we ask for?
Tough guys leave their children spread over the
large spaces of Northamerica and Latinamerica
Before facing death
Before receiving with a hopeless face the visit of
the Bony, of the Skully
Before receiving with a face wrinkled by indifference
the visit of the Godmother, of the Sovereign
of the Penguin, the Hairy, the Ugliest in the Party,
the Ugliest and Most Pointed in the Party"
--Roberto Bolaño