Friday, September 26, 2008

I’ll be reading some of my work tomorrow


6th Street & Revolution Ave
Downtown Tijuana Mexico
7 PM



She eats
With her friend
There’s nothing sexier
Than watching a skinny girl eat

Her toenails are decorated
With the mystery color
Of radiance
Each of her toes
A mine of desire

Her friend is a bit too young
But the skinny one is hungry
And she walks just perfect
And she feels just right
And she has the perfect figure
The shape of a guitar
Crafted by a master

I like the tone of her voice
The high pitch is amusing
It’s sexy
It will blend well
In the Mediterranean

Aerodynamic nose
This is good for the runway

If she’s beautiful wearing scrubs
She be a killer wearing
A night dress
Oh did I tell you the way
She licks her fingers
And the color of her fingernails?

Too beautiful to be a doctor?
No… I think she just right

Innocence is true beauty
If lost
There’s a tremendous void
A macabre crater in the moon
A cavity for
A pool of sadness

So leave her alone
Don’t touch her!

Her beautiful bronze face
Deserves fullness
And richness
She’s worthy
Of a great treasure
Worthy of the
Fortune of simplicity

Thursday, September 25, 2008


The couple is in love
She has that sensuous semblance
The conveys pain & bliss

He carries himself
With a desperado energy
A Mexican Romeo

She is truly beautiful
I am happy for them

To think love
Usually dies in 3 days
And that sadness always
Comes with romance

Lord Almighty!

The way she walks
I have never witnessed
Such autochthonous beauty
Never seen
A prettier demoiselle

Good luck hermano
You are going to need it

Wednesday, September 24, 2008


The dump truck returns
The operator’s
Face seems uptight
As my student plays
His electric guitar
The sound
Illuminates all
Of our expressions
With unspeakable happiness
I find myself bursting
With laughter
And the guitar player smiles
And he keeps playing
As his eyes
Turn into
2 pretty cisterns
And I also feel like weeping
The distortion
The electricity
Produce the images
Of my forerunners
And they are
Also smiling


Retirement allows
The subject to remember
A beautiful FBI agent
She looked just like the bionic woman
But only prettier
Perhaps an improved clone
Of Lindsay Wagner
Of all places this happened
In Portland Oregon
What a delightful coincidence
I remember she was holding
A 38 with her exquisite hand
Wearing those popular
Windbreakers with the name
Of her employer on the back
Standing on the sidewalk
Looking up at a window
Securing a building
I and walked passed her
And she has the most striking smile
In the whole world
And I decided to kiss her
And she let me get close to her
She was the only beauty there
The rest were dangerous brutes with guns
Including the ones hiding in the building
So I thought the proper thing to do
Would be to returned her smile
Even though she had slightly increased
The opening of her lips
And I could fully see
The precious set of teeth
Like the ones Solomon describes in
His Song of Songs
Through the years I have seen her
At different places
And she looks better than ever

Monday, September 22, 2008


The school boys
Walk to the store
They look happy and healthy
I pray they stay that way
And I wonder if they are
Going to be like me
Retired before turning 40
Or if they’re a going to go a head
Make someone rich
Get a few marriages and some kids
Girlfriends on the payroll
New cars and new houses
And the never ending heart attacks
Then they walk out with
American Junk Food
In their hands and board their
University’s school bus
It looks brand new and ready
To take them where they
Want to go

Sunday, September 21, 2008


I lost a police cruiser
It was on multiple directions
At the same time
An indication of
Sudden death

The ocean was dirty
But the water warm
If the visitation comes
Under these conditions
I will follow it
But in the meantime
I’ll concentrate on the guy
Asking the questions

Is this your car?
Yes it is?
Are you sure?
I am positive
Where are you going?
I am going to Costco

The agent flashes a
Barack Obama smile
And signals me over
Into his country
Into my country
Into everybody’s country

Into the land of the free
The land of freedom
Freedom for immigrants
Dancing UFOS

Yes the land of milk and honey
Aspartame & Bisphenol
And the smell
Of brand new cars

My poor car
Yes my car
With all those dents
With all its microphones
With all those scratches
With them speakers
With all the Wires
The RF fields
Heartbreaking clones
Romantic Travelers
And brave microchips