Wednesday, January 02, 2008


First workday of the year
Sent me right to secondary inspection
How flattering
My home away from home

Something strange
I feel
There’s pleasure
In el trabajo

How much is too good?
Is something ultra-good bad?
Is it sinful to have fun?
Diversion was
Always discouraged
By the desert teachers
But now it’s
So difficult to differentiate
Reality from supra-reality

Joyfulness a symptom
Something is wrong
Employment gets me
High on artificial happiness

I thought poetry
Was the door
Of sadness

Mandatory breakfast stop
Images of frighten cattle
And nonchalant K9’s

I thought I saw
Agent Eirey walking
Looking for his soul
On the pavement

You can’t help but
Sympathize with some
Of these fellows
Like Agent Dominguez
Who gave me a heartfelt apology
As he walked next to me car
Towards the Garage

But I looked for Agent Airey again
To see if he is still
Feeling butterflies
In his gut

You can tell this
Is happening when their
Eyes dance vertically
And horizontally
Usually a
Reliable prediction
For tears

No-more Airey
Last time he was walking
Towards those concrete boxes
That look like kilns
Where they sell
Tickets (permits)
To amused tourists
The type that
Get off
When spooked

This is better than Disneyland
When you give
The orange paper
To the gatekeeper
He opens the door
And there’s
A free-way
In front of you
Then the next level
The better ride begins

Monday, December 31, 2007


“I’ll make sure
You are sent to
Secondary inspection
Every time you
Cross the border”

Agent Airey
You stupid Ox

How clumsy art thou?

When you walked to the rear of
My car and bend down
To write something on
A piece of paper
I saw you in my
Rearview mirror
And you appeared as
An international retard

Go a head threaten me
I am sorry to tell you
You are not the first one
Who wants to see me everyday
Just the latest clown
With a gun and badge

Are you also a hardcore believer on
The don’t ask don’t tell policy?

Are you
The face of America?
The face of protection?
The face of confidence?

The face of the war
Against uselessness

Why don’t you
Harassing Mexicans
And go
And catch a terrorist
Or an international
Drug trafficker
Or a white collar crook?

Or just go and catch
Some common sense

When I saw Agent Segovia
I knew the music was about to begin
He made sure I make it to
Secondary inspection
Where a jovial CBP rookie asked him

“What do you have”

I tried to see his surname but he was
Wearing a jacket and it
Was covering his nametag

Segovia whispered something like

“INS not Customs”

And the routine questioning began
I don’t mind answering questions but
That day the novice did not like my answers
And all of the sudden he was
Less jovial and more condescending
He finally introduce himself at the end
Of our awkward encounter

“You can go now”
He said
“Thank you Mr ????”
“De la Cruz”
He said

De la Cruz
What a popular name
He might had been lying
Perhaps he gave
A cool sounding name
Like they do at the movies
Either way it’s good enough
For easy an poem
‘So here it goes

De la Cruz
You are a nice kid
With a lot of potential
You might make “captain”
Just toss out
The condescending tone
Is not you
It doesn’t fit you
If it was you
I would kindly tell you
To go onward
And I might even
Give you a few pointers
On the art
Of being supercilious