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

Thursday, June 25, 2009


There’s always shadows
On one hemisphere
Of the planet

As if that side of its body
Was bruised
Was hurting
Was recovering

And the other side
Pristine & beautiful
Filled with youth & exuberance

One side
Treated with medications

Transformations & modifications

The other
Making an appeal
To the restoration of darkness
The medicine of instincts
The pleasure of sleep

Wednesday, June 24, 2009


There’s new birds on my tree
An international airport of
Winged creatures

All of them beautiful
All of them leaving messages
About you

I look at them
And then I look
At your motion picture
And it feels like
Summer more than ever

I have your images
On the mirrors
Of my mind
Now all I need
Is you

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


la espuma blanca
el suelo oscuro
contraste antropológico

instinto de una
vida transformada
existencia modificada
donde pisan los sueños

el aguador
con su porte de supervivencia
presencia de gladiador
atacador invisible
todo un alma de Dios

llenó mis 3 garrafones
y los rayos ultravioleta
golpeaban el chorro de agua
disparando luces por doquier

esa noche
mientras comentábamos
tus poemas
los poemas que modificarán
el futuro
un hermano profirió:

o sea
que desde allí...
¡ya está!
del pellejo
del cuero
de la piel
¡ya está!

Monday, June 22, 2009


La velocidad de Dios
Acaricia el mundo
Y toca corazones
Transforma las cosas
Provoca música
Nuevos planetas
Evidencias de vida
Que hacen soñar
A los curiosos
Y suspirar
A los amantes

Sunday, June 21, 2009


The rich man knocked on the door
When I answered
I found him
Staring at the dog
On the floor

He was an idiot
He could not tell
It was dead

“Is your father home?”
“Do you know when he will be back?”
“Can you tell him I stopped by?”

He then left to one
Of his many business
Or perhaps to his mansion
By the beach

I placed the dog
In a black plastic bag
And buried it