Friday, June 26, 2009


I took my seat and waited
For the reading to begin
And what happened next became a show
Electricity and vocal chords
Colors and sounds
Spoken images
Visual metaphors
Images that danced
On the wall capriciously
Not everybody endured it and it reminded me
Of the time I saw Ginsberg read
And how some people got up
And left the theater
But THIS was in Spanish
And it was better
Because she reads good & she
Was more pleasant
To look and to listen to than Allen and
Her voice was the chanting of nature
The tremolo of instinct
The justification of humanness
She was the brave new planet
She was the intelligent provocatrix
She was the city that spoke

Outside there was a table
With food and
Numerous bottles of wine

I drank the wine
And observed
The dead fish inside the bowl
And it look delicious
So I grabbed a nacho ship
And dipped into it
Ate part of it
And felt the food particles
Getting stuck
In between my teeth
As I considered
The old Italian man serving
Red wine to poets & writers

Antonieta Villamil said:

It must
Be the wine
And then
She wrote:

For Juan,

To see is beyond
The dancing observation
The light on the eye
A premonition that exposes

I got in my car
And arrived at an obscure
And strange place
But the wailing of the fire engines
Alerted me of the right of way
I drove toward the city
Towards the lights
Towards downtown
And soon a parking attendant
Was trying persuade me
With a Cuban cigar
But I kept walking towards the tavern
And met my friends
They were drinking beer in green bottles
And reciting poems from memory
And when it was my turn
I tried to remember a poem
But I had an unpleasant recollection
So I created 1 poem
As I spoke

No comments: