Tuesday, September 19, 2006


In the morning sun
I was told
There was
A Santana wind coming

I drove towards
The border
And the line
Was so short
Like a snake
Chopped off
With a machete

The inspector had
The sun’s radiance
On her face
As if she had just
Come down
A holy mountain
Bless her soul

In the organic store
I was offered
Crackers with cheese
I ate them
Inside a freezer

My friend was
Kind enough
To share his food
With me
I shared a poem
With him

He paid money
For his food
I traded
My vanity
For the poem

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