Thursday, November 20, 2008


The Americans stock pile on beer
And they look so happy
And I am happy for them
Because they deserve it

Everybody deserves it
If they like to race let them race
And drink from those bottles
Filled with sunshine
Let them flee for their commercial bondage

As for me I’ll keep watch over
The extremely attractive girls
They enter & exit as I try to slice up poems

The tall one with penetrating eyes
Keeps looking my way
Locking her black pupils
With the eye of my heart

These girls are on a race of their own
And if I was the judge
I would give the grand prize
To the one sitting to my left
I like the way her eye liner flows
Over her native features

And they keep coming & going
Their esthetic brains working
Like day laborers just before a strike

Ah the one with fair skin
She wears the net on her legs
The net that will catch the imagination of men
And overthrow a multitude of principles

And the men look more afraid than the women
And the children look the happiest
Because they race with their imaginations
And their victories cause no damage
Neither hurt nor pain
The children triumphant &
Modification of our future


Salen de la boca
Como platillos voladores
Aterrizan en oídos ilusos
Ya casi es invierno pero hace calor

Taladran como bacterias en los tejidos
Amados como todo lo que hace daño
Como la anemia de los comercios

Los combatientes
Sufren el terror de la música a la moda
Modificación de sus fervientes ideas

Para la purificación
De sus materias primas
Y sus cuerpos
Danza el óleo sobre el lienzo

Una imagen no son 1000 palabras
Una palabra es un proyecto
Es la detención de tu atención
Un momento perdido de tu vida
La fatiga que te hace tomar asiento

Tuesday, November 18, 2008


Artificial thunder
Is not better
Than the real thing

It happens more often
And simulated damage
Is worse than
Organic hurt

If only the world
Would stop fighting
The reins of love

Everything could be
As pretty as
A regular life span

A crown
Is always a symbol

It represents
The will of some
Over the will of others

Monarchy vs ambition
Wall Street vs royalty

Destined to fade away
Like caprices
Of our tender age

I invoke you
Christ the carpenter

I beseech your working class practicality
Your holy simplicity

Oh how many tables & chairs you have built

Oh Craftsman of my spirit!
Master of my Mexican soul!

The times I have worshiped you
Your fiery glance
Was better than a thousand crowns

Numerous times you appeared
Sitting comfortably amongst the poor
As I admired the fine workmanship
Of the furniture

Monday, November 17, 2008


─ ¿Juan, no le tienes miedo al agua?
─ No.
─ ¿De veras?
─ De veras.
─ ¡Hay Juan! ¿Y ahorita que es de noche, no te da miedo?
─ No.
─ ¿Te echarías un clavado al mar?
─ ¿Contigo?
─ A mí me da miedo
─ No hay nada que temer… nos podemos poner un traje de buzo. Además, no hay corrientes fuertes.
─ Juan, no sé cómo le haces.
─ ¿Cómo hago qué cosa?
─ Las cosas que haces.
─ ¿Cuáles cosas?
─ Olvídalo.
─ Está bien.
─ ¿Quieres vivir conmigo?
─ ¿Vivir contigo?
─ Sí, conmigo.
─ Ya vivimos juntos
─ ¿Por qué dices eso?
─ Porque toda la humanidad vive junta.
─ No es cierto.
─ Sí, todos vivimos juntos en el mismo planeta.
─ ¿Estás jugando conmigo?
─ No.
─ Te tengo.
─ ¿Qué tienes?
─ Te tengo a ti.
─ Sí, tienes mi amistad.