IN DIFFERENT PLACES


In the hospital
As you lay dying
You see the dark shadows
Coming to claim you
As their trophy

In your car
As you wait dying
You see the faces
Of the onlookers
Making of you
A free horror show

In your mind
You are unable to stop those thoughts
That make you think
The unthinkable
The inevitable

BREAKFAST


I like to imagine myself
As some kind of superhero
As I cook pork

This invisible mirror
Gets even clearer
When the kids say

Dad
That aroma
That is very good
What are we eating Dad?

I like to imagine myself
As a 21 century crusader
As I crack eggs
On the side of the frying pan

Thinking I am breaking the balls
Of wicked villains
To eventually be placed together
With the burning swine

MACHETE


The kid wants to play
Thinking he’s an explorer

Conquering new lands
Cutting the brush
That is on his way

Opening his path towards
A world full
Of adventure

He wants to cut the stem
He wants to see
What waits for him
On the other side of the grass
On the other side
Of his comprehensive blade

UNTIL THE EARTH SHAKES AGAIN


Until the ground I am stepping on
Moves under me
Forcing me to dance with it
Making 4’s all over the floor
All over the world

2’s everywhere
Adding up
Watching the demolition
Of aluminum caves

The woman pulling the hair
Of the girl
The man piercing the refrigerator
With heavy metal spear

The aftermath is on the dirt
Ready to be picked up by the wind
And thrust everywhere
Just like shrapnel

SMALL HUNTING


The ship is a witness
As it sits on the night
On the darkness of the Pacific

During the daytime
The leaves fly
Like Lear Jets

During the nighttime
The lights hover
Above the sea

Turning on & off
Competing with the stars
And the high beams of automobiles

The fawn runs
The marathon of her life
On a carpet of dried grass

TOO MUCH


Too much information
Is good
Is bad
Is stupid
Is first class

It is everything you want it to be
It is everything you don’t want it to be
It is not too much wisdom
It is a lot of nonsense

It is just information with oo's and a T

It is the manufacturing of data
It is only lies with funky English
It is what it is
It is what it never was

HISTORY


History is a deceptive word
It conveys the wrong state of mind

Something to take to bed
To help you sleep

It doesn’t suppose to thrill you
But sometimes it does

It should help you rest
But sometimes keeps you awake

History is best
When you write it
As you read it

When you make it
As you wish it

PARTLY DEAD


Every day your are partly dead
Specially in the evening
When you are most near death

At night
Just before falling asleep
You are agonizing

When you close your eyes
And fall asleep
You are dead for sure

If you dream
There is no question
About your demise

When you wake up
If you wake up
You are resurrected
Ready to die again
Many times over

morning medicine


frozen water
wrapped in clear plastic
punctured by invisible icepicks

the birds sing
with mysterious rhythms
all seems too natural

the crystal rock
is moved by force
and it rolls on the dirt
dirt is always better than pavement

the eastern sun
makes of this an artichoke
a birthday wish
a flying airplane running out of gas

KITCHEN


I like the solitude of making breakfast
While the children play
At being heroes elsewhere

I like that feeling
Of working the liturgy of the ingredients
Adjusting the intensity of the fire

I remember camping trips
We would compete for such an honor
It was always a duty to be done alone

Some would smoke as they cooked
Others would look intently at the food
Knowing this would be the last stare
Their last taste of the morning

ONE OF YOUR POEMS


I also remember your embrace
When we were on lockdown
Touching each other without a key

You had me by the neck
And I was pressing on your soul

And both of us were burning
But it didn’t hurt
Like the fire that ignites
The candles of Jerusalem

You were strong
Oh so strong!
I was happy
Because I could love you
Without killing you

We were a rocking ship
And I liked it better
When we were underwater
I know you did too

When I began to lose my breath
Is when I heard the music
Your song
Your melody
Your teardrop

TIME


I saw you there
And I said: god damn!
It has been such a long time!

But you look different
Like I did
And you acted different
Like I do

You were a skater now
And had an earring hanging
From your earlobe

There was still something
That would allow me to “know”
It was you

So I watched you use the skateboard
Outside your parents house

Your folks were sinister
We have been waiting to meet you
They said
Come on in and sit down
I did as I was told

And you were trashing
Your skateboard
Outside the front door

Then we went to witness
The work of the people together
We sat there
In the front rows
Watching the fellows from Africa
Do their thing

I turned my head towards the right
And the light was reflecting
On your silver hoop

And you looked
So cool
Like Ed Bradley

And remembered
That time
When that fellow
With the goatee
Was trying to convinced us
That when we ate nature
We ate God

I WAITED


I walked silently
As silently as I could
After the sound
That almost musical sound

I had my rifle pointing towards it
But it was complete darkness
And I turned on the light under the barrel

The sound stopped
The melody stopped
I stopped and waited in the shadows

Waited like the night waits for daytime
Waited like winter waits for summer
Waited to go to bed & be next to you

Following the lines of your tattoo
With my fingers
Waited like the past
Waits for the future

TIEMPO RETRAÍDO


Camino por el malecón olvidado
Y los seres a mi alrededor
Sujetan botellas de agua
En sus manos

Tienen huecos en sus almas
Igual que yo

Sólo que yo me conformo
Con el agua que está
En la olas de mar
Me gusta más verla que beberla

Los caminantes de la mañana
Me revesan por las aceras
Unos corren
Otros caminan
Todos me pasan

Unos llevan perros
Con cadenas o sin ataduras
Otros sólo pueden jalar las correas de sus vidas

Camino y doy vueltas
Como un avión que hace trucos en el cielo

Al mismo tiempo que veo las rostros de policías asustados
Observando autobuses nuevos que se detienen
Aun lado de sus prisioneros

Y quiero observar toda la escena
Pero también necesito observar la carretera
Porque para entonces estoy detrás del volante
Llegando al último lugar de este momento

Y antes de continuar me doy cuenta que:
Poder escribir un poema
Es poder hacer todas las cosas
Que alguien pueda saber en el mundo entero

MORNING BEAUTY/MORNING FOLLY


The morning has it own kind of music
The low clouds play a peculiar hum
The coffee machine announces liquid love
Crackling in unison with the roosters

Everything seems just right in the morning time
Food & flesh taste better
Even fright is stronger in the morning
Concentrated & reciprocated

Morning beauty
Morning folly

The engine warms up and the car shudders
Darkness dissipates with first kiss
Feet rub together multiplying steps taken by 2
It is when you are awaken that you truly resting

CULMINATION


The mailer
Walked out the Post Office

He looked happy & content
With the bright blue sky
And the shinny sun
That reflected on his eyes

Also in the sky
And airplane with gourmet food

Flying north
Flying Europe
Flying Latin-American

So far away from earth
Orbiting the moon
Finding satellites of gold

LUNCHEON


The table is ready
The corpse had an apple on its mouth

The spectator with a heart attack
On the floor
And the guests ate

As they chewed
She told me not have the surgery
That it will hurt even more

I looked at her hands
Then at her face
Then at her hands again

I asked what should I do
She said to leave it alone

I said okay
And walked outside
As the people ate lunch

burning storm


words rain down like bullets
producing breathing gaps
holes of naiveté

this is a burning storm
gathering its metallic rattle
in soda cans

21 century maracas
convoluted dance of chance
random cries at midnight
amplified by the microphones of the soul

the truck’s flat tires
are spinning moons
throbbing wounds
being recovered by sea salt

SMOKE


She lit up
Looking for that spiritual place
Looking at the city lights
From her smoking terrace

Her thoughts were also on fire
And the ambers oh her brainwaves
Traveled around the world

Intercontinental missiles of desire

Igniting faraway places
Burning laughter away
Bringing out cold water from the faucets
Of western suburbia

Ice compressions in plastic bags
Cortisone cream from the first aid kit
Appointments for face transplants

Improvised songs that chanted:
Everything is gonna be alright

Howling dogs and mad bitches
Overworked engines
And crying witches

The night burned away
At the same time that
Roosters crowed
Coffee brewed
And millions of breakfasts were made

FAST DREAM


The idea of you got me all worked up
Even though I cruised on my bicycle
I did not feel weary or tired
Because I was ready
To love you as soon as I could touch you

I remember one house
But not the other one
The one I entered was the one where you were standing
And I was all over you and you would say:

“Not here”

But it was the wall—you—and—me—
And we got all excited very rapidly

It was like tasting just a little bit of a very good thing
The sort of thing you want much more of as soon as possible

Then I was back on my bike all of the sudden
Thinking of your silhouette and your taste
As I pedaled towards the sunset
Wondering why these things
Always happen to me

I LOVE THE WAY YOU EAT THE AFTERNOON


Preference arrives in different colors
Sitting on public benches
On loaned chairs
Or brand new cars that will end up
In a junk yard

The many moments of our live
Passed us by like city doves
Flying erratically out of the smog

The sun hits the eye
The camera
The sound
The heart inside an ambulance
The thought you had
As you thought you were dying

the best


it is a perfectly good thing
to become your confidant

learning your curves and tricks
like school children

waiting to show-off at recess
eating your schoolmate's food & confidence

i feel bad too you know?
but i just hope for the best
and wish goodness for everybody

even as many die
and many are born
every single day

but when i do it
the best i can
is when i feel alright

i fall asleep
and dream about the good things
life has given me

slowly



slowly caminamos
por las sábanas of your thoughts baby
and it feels perfectamente bien

aunque a veces nuestras piernas touch each other
pero i don´t care
it is your touch que me gusta tanto

i like your pensamientos baby
porque se sienten como fine linen
y tus besos son como de velvet

me gusta atorarme en tus dreams
porque siento que estoy en una movie
en donde les gano a los malos
y me llevo a la pretty girl
y los dos nos sentimos very good

writing your poem


i said i would write a poem
of how much i miss you
the truth is you are with me
and i am with you

to miss you would be to miss myself
and i have myself under this sleeping bag
warm & cozy i have you

if memories hurt is because
we don't understand that we belong together
even if our lips are apart

i've tasted the flavor of your medicine
witnessed the virtue of your presence
i know hurt dissipates with restoration
and pain evaporates with anticipation

deporte


el frío entra
calefactor lo bota
como un balón


negociación

la cama me ve
me invita a descansar
verano espero


el radio

te escucho llorar
reclamos de amor escupes
corriente alterna

la gran decisión
por diego martínez


el día de hoy
hubo un gran problema
por la lluvia
para entrar al restaurante
de comida china

cuando entramos
nos dimos cuenta
que todas las mesas
estaban ocupadas

tuvimos que decidir
a dónde ir
fue difícil
hacer la decisión

corrimos hacia el carro
para pensar mejor
porque en el restaurante
había muchas voces

mi papá y mi hermano
querían ir a la casa del mole
pero yo no quería

le dije a mi papá:
vamos a otro lugar
mi papá:
¿a cuál lugar?
yo no contesté nada

luego nos pusimos de acuerdo
y fuimos a la tapatía
y comimos una buena comida
pero me di cuenta que las luces
del carro de papá
estaban encendidas

y le dije:
papá, las luces del carro
están encendidas
papa:
¿puedes ir a apagarlas?
yo: sí

fui a apagarlas y regresé
mi hermano me preguntó:
¿cerraste la puerta con seguro?
yo: sí
entonces terminamos de comer
y nos fuimos a casa

dos


te amo en 2 lenguas
because you taste like the night
sabor a las estrellas que adornan la oscuridad
te amo con los movimientos de mis labios
they keep the beat from my heart baby
and my heart is tu corazón

i remember your bilingual taste
¡y me gusta!
me gusta mucho honey

te amo con dos lenguas
mejores que las de un dragón
your love is fuerte baby
mora powerful que una bomba
una lengua del sur y una del norte

que se chocan
que se amarran
que atan mi rostro
junto a tus piernas
and you have killer legs baby

te amo con 2 manos con 2 piernas
i love you with every breath
con cada lágrima cada diente
and you taste like the salt de la noche
my taste buds saben a ti
saben a sol de un sunny day
saben a la lluvia de tu amor

despacio


te amo
por el otro lado
de mi realidad

te quiero
cuando tienes sueño
cuando el enfado
cansa tus ojos

te deseo
cuando se detienen
los momentos

te poseo
en los cuentos agotados
en este incierto
semáforo de la vida

love in california


i write a poem when i ride a bicycle
i see the world turning
on my front wheel

i pass the ice cream parlor
and think chocolate
bubble gum & rocky road

i have this memory
and i holdfast to it
it is mine

you can exercise in your sleep
and you can make of this image
whatever you want
like love in california
like sleeping in the afternoon

yesterday



just 3 cars in the city
and the 3 are about to collide
so i enter the supermarket
and i see a nurse buying
fruits & vegetables

he could be a doctor
but if i had to guess
i say he's a nurse
in spite of his goatee

i walk to the bakery
and pick 4 pieces of bread
the clerk puts them in a paper bag
as he tells his coworker
a pretty mexican girl
he'll buy a car to gain her love

i walk back to my shopping cart
and find 2 identical carts side by side
with the same items in them
and i take the one that feels alright
no use thinking to much about it

i walk the supermarket aisles
and noticed the smiles being flashed at me
i respond in kind
better not fight it
it is good to be happy

fingers on the counter-top


the forms have the flavor
of a subtle memory of commerce

i'm trying not to walk too much on it
because the ice is breaking
and the water is growing
in age & in wisdom

water has seniority
over the land
over the world
over anything that moves

drips of water & blood
land on my tongue
i can speak
all the languages of the world now

free-fall


they fell down the stairs
like christmas ornaments

like ripe watermelons
hitting the floor at random

traveling units of muscle
flying like ufo's out of control
crashing on the mason's gray-matter

bursting open like mexican flower pots
on the children's playground
grounded forever

fertilizing desire
growing future
on the killing floor
on the 3rd world dancing floor

away


i can't type
my hand does not respond

another injury
another sigh

hope to be back
as soon as possible

meanwhile
i will stop and listen

and learn
from my left side

look at my left fingers
and see if they dance like the right-ones

look at you nose
and find a 7 upside down

WRISTS


My wrists
Feel like rag dolls

Moved by wind
By the ocean’s breeze

Exercised by the force of water
Frequented by telephonic messages

My wrists
Feel like my best friends

Like my family
Like my love

Rest that never comes
Membership of circumstance

An old bed supporting planets
A wrinkled piece of paper with a number

DREAMING


Your touch
Ignites my night
With dreams

Your dreams
Clutch my jugular
With force

You kick
Like a soccer player
Mad with a soothsayer

And I say to you
Easy baby
This is only the beginning

Go easy honey
And you’ll have all my loving

pneumatóforo


reconozco los caminos accidentados
los conozco como la palma de mi mano

como cada cicatriz
donde estallaron las bombas
de los anhelos
las fantasías administradas
por visiones y televisiones

camino la devastación de sueños truncados
de bicicletas descompuestas
entre un viento que empuja polvo metálico

en todo esto se esconde la esperanza
y me siento acosado

dicha clandestina que viene hacia mí
como una locomotora
cargada con hechizos

BREATHING SILVIA


Music in images
Images in sounds

The sun goes
Into the water
As I enter you

Half the ball of fire
Is in the Pacific
I taste a fraction of your love

We dance in your DNA
Your eyes play the soundtrack

Your body entices sleeping
The rhythm of your hair
Your lips hidden in my neck
Your touch is forever

FORWARD


The recuperation
Is advancing slowly
Each mount of sand
Every meter of soil
All the groups of grass

Leaves dried up
By the will of men
The will of children
Disguised as adults
Camouflage of circumstance

It is hello and goodbye
At the same time
It is a birth and a funeral
Another setting of the sun

ON TIME


Coming down a big bird
From a red stained sky
Can tell you how much is the cost

Of health
Of your diminishing seconds
Of the number of drops that rundown your forehead
Of foolishness turned commodity

Offerings of a dying world
Touching the pavement
Road rash in your retina
Showers in the corners of your wealth

Imprisonment of your desire
Machinegun smile working the
Freedom of the little planet
Freddy is no longer a showman

Use dental floss on your brains
Or they will end up
At your local taco shop
Always with plenty of salt & salsa

If you want to learn
A new language
It will happen when you get home
You don’t have to go to it
It will come to you
Never late
Always early

LESION


I woke up
With my right arm
Out of service
I looked
In the mirror
To see if
The right side of my face
Was crooked
But everything seem
Normal
In its place
But my wrist
Felt like a dead ghost

Panic was averted
When I remembered
I can write
Or type
With my left fingers
Working with my left hand
Comes natural
I noticed I can love from the left
It is the same
It is just different
It is like shooting with
The other hand
The target is the same

But it looks and feel distinct
Aged and polished
Exotic and
Otherworldly

elefantofilia


regreso lo más pronto posible
no creo que me demore mucho
pienso que esto será cuestión
de sólo unos momentos

sólo unos momentos
¿sólo unos momentos?
¡sólo unos momentos!

espero que estas palabras sí lleguen
a su merecido destino
¡su merecido destino!

una pluma se puede usar para escribir poesía
y la poesía se puede usar para muchísimas cosas
para muchísimos proyectos
ondulados como la marea
como las caprichosas olas del pacífico

una pluma se puede usar para escribir poesía
la caza es sólo un esfuerzo más
¡una pluma se puede usar para escribir poesía!

déjame escribirte poemas de amor
déjame saber que estás bien
meciendo todo esto

un punto y no final
un punto y finito
un punto infinito

SUNRISE


The door is almost destroyed
And the door handle is cold

Better frigidity
Than the branding of your hand

Than smelling
Burnt red meat
As the incense
Of prosperity

And the horse’s melodies
Conjure secrets words

Dreams of hay and dust
High tuning at sunrise
With the anointing
Of caffeine

ATTEMPT


Almost a wedge formation
But be careful
with your fingers

They could
Get caught

Almost a reflection
The crystals convey
20 different possibilities

A modern way
To read the future

To tweak your
Motor skills

To think of winter
As a national sport

THE ROOSTER CROWS


Early in the morning
As I urinated

I looked above
at the moon

And it was
Raining on the ocean

With its pearly
White flashing light

Adorning darkness
Making of the water a signal device

I walked through the dawn
And found my bed

I sat down
And played guitar

CANDLE


The candle
Is under my hand

It feels good
On my skin

It soothes
My index finger

That pointing instrument
That extremity becomes
A dog

A pointer
That writes poems
With its tongue

A professional taster
A whimsical sampler

Floating up
Floating down
With the Pacific

The winter’s sun
Is as beautiful
As the blood
That it smears
On the clouds

Evidence
Of a day’s work
Proof of my love
Piercing the sky

VOYEOUR


The domino effect of your mind
Of your spirit
Of your soul

A wish of life
That effort
At an extra cost

Fortune & love
Seemed like the same thing to you

You poor fuck…

Sugarcane of the night
You are pierced
With diabetes

Taste your afternoon
Taste your sponge
With vinegar

Taste your water
With hormones
Taste the pharmacy
In the rim of your cup

See your face change

Sing “changes”
With David Bowie

You’ll get closer
Like you wanted to be
Like a nomad in the mirror

WHO IT WILL BE


Outside
In the night
On the vastness of the sky
The four stars
Form a boxing ring

I know who the winner is
Who it was
Who it will be again

I breathe
Winter in
Exhale it
Like cigarette smoke

I know who is triumphant
I know who it was
Who it will be again

HOPE


Desperation makes the rhythm
Of death a constant drumming

The beat on life
A funky dance
Swimming in music
Is how the tune goes

Walking on the water of your madness
Fishing the debris in your drink
A whirlpool on the rocks

Even your language becomes beautiful
When you are dying

New names are given
With such a baptism
New hopes of reaching the free world

la cama mexicana

es un lugar donde se esconden

las palabras que se cruzaron

las que se tropezaron

en los accidentes de la intención

las risas ocasionadas

por una comedia secreta

las decisiones

de origen clandestino

los pensamientos fracturados

una maquina descompuesta

que produce resultados profesionales

consecuencias ejecutivas

que viven en el rechinar

de la madera de tu casa

duermes en un 3

y que bueno que no es un 4

duermes con la seducción

del árbol del mundo

nunca he dormido en el 1

me parece incómodo

y muy peligroso

duermes con el encanto

del cuchillo del cazador

duermes con el lobo desangrado

y su lengua cortada

tejido lacerado

que tiñe la nieve de rojo

duermes en la homeostasis

de tu deseo

en el sepulcro de tu astucia

duermes en esta cama

en este árbol rotundo

WATER


Are you going to write about rain?
A question like any other -I thought

I decided to write about rain
But the idea of water
Is the same
As the beginning

And the rain
Brings down water
Like the substance
That surrounds
The roundness of the world

Water is my love
Water is my life
Water is my death
My way to God

Water is your mouth
Water is your lips
Water is your love
That's what I thought

MUSICAL KNOWLEDGE


The current of words
Clashes with the songs
Of morning mass

I put the book down
Alongside the other papers

They look so good together
As if they were going
To get married

The song of the bird
Can be transmitted
Through the wire
Where he stands

Through the grid of the world
Transportation of sound
Musical knowledge

With a feeling
That can only be imported
Through your eyes

CLEANING


“He used to live
And played guitar
In a shed
10 years playing the same songs”

Maybe in the same place

I remembered his statement
As I moved
Dusty boxes

Looked at unopened
Bank statements

Studied the twisted wires
Of old cell phones

“6 months later
He was a millionaire”

I remembered his words
As I threw the bank correspondence
Into the garbage

He didn’t say
He blew his brains out
With a shotgun
But both of us knew it

I thought of that
When I saw my old canteen
On the dusty floor

I put the waste
In the green garbage can
Then I went inside
To eat some bread

IT’S JUST LIFE


Life is the danger of music
The headache of dissonant chords
The unnoticed torture of the eye

The rapid transaction of your response
The contemplation of your demise
The pondering of your laughter
The echo of my smile

My teeth sinking on the food between my lips

Life is the pursuit of a mirage
The deciphering of need
The seduction of necessity

Life is
Your nervous presence on my counter
Your mischievous grin
Your hand reaching for a business card

You walking out the door
Me looking at your back

Life is being nice to your enemies before they die
Shaking hands
Shaking extremities at the same time

Sobbing when they cross the Rubicon
Taking a deep breath and marching onward

Life is being homeless and in darkness
Fed and in opulence
Talking and being kind to complete strangers

While reading their thoughts and intentions
While pretending not to notice
They are far-far-far away

PERSECUTOR


I am a persecutor
A persecutor in stride
fast forwarding
Your disappearing ambushes

I am a persecutor
Your wrath
I can convert
In energy

I am persecutor
Of nightmares
Of your dreams
And wishes

I am persecutor
Of whatever I want to persecute
I like precutting nothing at all
That’s what I like best!

I am persecutor
Of stories
Of love poems
Of life
Of happiness

I am persecutor of this
I am a persecutor of that
I am persecutor of you
Even if you think
You don’t exist

cáncer

cáncer
me caes de a madres

cáncer
te tengo identificado
en el cuerpo humano
igual en los senos
que en la próstata
en los pulmones
que en la garganta
y en la lengua
y en los labios

cáncer
cangrejo glotón
cómete ésta
me refiero a la muerte cáncer
cómetela

cáncer
húndete en la arena
que te lleve el mar
húndete junto al drenaje y el llanto

cáncer
codiciosa tenaza
rómpete contra
las rocas de la playa

y cáncer
del azar deseo salado
de marte visita clandestina
de penas arma que multiplica

cáncer
vete mucho a la chingada
vete muy lejos allá
donde no hagas daño

cáncer
bicho raro
travieso malvado
déjanos en paz

y cáncer
también sé
pedir por las buenas
pero no lo haré

cáncer
vete o te envenenaré
veneno en mis tejidos
cáncer

TASTE


The light of your beauty
Shines like
A million suns

Your eyes
Contain unrestrained water
Oceans of desire
Glance of medicine

Stillness of the morning
Snow melting

Your dancing fingers
On my skin

My heart a time bomb
Your love tastes
Like an olive tree

NATURE… MACHINE… MAN


He said
It is time to give her a bath
Don’t you think?

And I told him:
This month is
An uphill month

What do you mean?
He asked

I mean
Do you give credit?

He laughed
And I laughed
I walked toward
The sand

The water
Reminded me
Of my last trip
And deep inside
I felt a little pride

I walked
And noticed
I was out of shape
But not out of desire

I wanted more than ever
To live
To walk
To love
To breathe

The diesel fumes
Were fanned
By the Pacific

There were craters
On the sand
And otherworldly fellows
Operated what looked
Like transformers

No glitter
Since the sun
Illuminated the dullness
Of the machines

THE BLESSING OF THE WATERS


The spirit of intelligence
Sings the mystic

And I feel like
Saying: amen
Or something of the sort

The spirit of intelligence
Moves upon the waters

It also lives
In the fire
On the stillness
Of the candles

I can drink this water
It doesn’t burn you
Like firewater does
When it travels
Through you esophagus

It gives you health
To slay dragons
It hydrates you
With the spirit of intelligence

ANSWERS


The metal snake moved
Slowly and then fast
On a sunny winter afternoon

We talked about dreams
As we contemplated
Airplanes painting the sky

The mental snake
Cut into pieces
On the floor
Inside the old shed

On the other side
There was more answers
Than questions

PRUDENCE


The best gift
Is not knowing the future

That way
You can hit
Everything with prudence
When suffering
Becomes a sport

You can fulfill
Your part as
A converter of realities

Taking pride
In your work
Even though it hurts
Even though it’s broken

SHORTS & SANDALS


I woke up
And it felt like summer
Except my throat was closing
Like when I kissed
The plant that looked
Like a lady

The wind
And the sun
Played together
Like bewitched mice

I was told to close the window
Because the dust
Could puncture
Your lungs

I pushed to button
And watched the glass
Rise with the scenery

The water
Was a mirror once again
And even though
I was hungry
I was also happy

I MEANT GOOD


What you told me was true
You were not joking
Even though you laughed a lot
Forgive me for not believing

I meant good
I always meant good

When we would listen
To the band play
When we ate dinner
As you taught me
Of the likings
Of the people

I meant good

When you would ask me
To choose the seat
To enter a room
The check for
Anything unusual

I meant good

When you would talk
About magic
Trying to make me believe
In what you believe
So adamantly

I meant good

When you refuse
To sell the Italian pistol
When I felt
Like I was loosing
My patience

I meant good

When you were
Able to get into
Other people’s minds
In other places too

I meant good…

When I find out you died
I thought of you
And how you meant good

VISIT


I called my friend’s name
Once or twice
He came out the front door
Opened the metal gate and said:
Come in

I walked in and sat at the table
We talked about
Cars and trucks and
Better times

He offered me coffee
And I accepted
He put his son
In charge of the coffee maker

His son is good kid
I wanted to teach him
How to play guitar
But he suffers from arthritis
On his fingers

We talk some more
About the 90’s
How things are not the same
They are never the same

I remembered the time
When the strange truck parked outside
My friend walked to his room
And came back with a revolver on his hand
Sat at table and continued the conversation
Keeping a focused eye on the window

We talked about radios
And he made
And international call
On his cell phone

The voice at the other end
Sounded sleepy
You woke him up
I said
No I did not
He said
That’s the way he talks
He added

You should do it!
The voice on the phone said
This is a good opportunity

CRUISING


For D.A.


I let the ambulance go first
Then I followed

Near the ocean I saw my friend
Holding hands with a guy
She looked in love

I kept driving
We were listening to norteño music
And once in awhile
We would sing together
And laugh a little

Stopped at the tire shop
And the poor lad
Wanted to sell me everything
As if we were still living in the 90’s
I said no thanks
And drove away

I thought to myself:
Even if it was like before
I would have walked away anyway

It was more important
To have lunch

My son ordered a hot dog
I ordered a slice of pizza

We shared a soda
I let him pick the soft drink
And he chose a coke

I ate my cheese and pepperoni
With mushrooms and black olives

He ate his mustard and ketchup
With relish and white bread

He managed to get
The condiments
On his clothes

I handed him some napkins
And as he wiped the mustard
Off his clothes
Someone that looks like you
Walked by us

TRUCHA CON EL CABLE HOMIE



Trucha con el cable homie
The voice said in the dark
The stench of burnt plastic
Traveling through
His rotten teeth

Trucha con el cable homie
The voice lingering
In the night
Incense of theft

Trucha con el cable homie
And to think he better
Get trucha with his ass
Before it get full of lead
Or something else

Trucha con el cable homie
Because the dogs will bark
When the horses arrive
And all of them
Will end up tied up

Trucha con el cable homie
Sunday morning is a special time
Sunday morning is my favorite time
Sunday morning near the ocean
Because is better than last night
Listening to the speaking fish
Repeating the words:
Trucha con el cable homie

REMOTE CONTROL


A remote control of life
A dusty control with
The sound of music
With the appearance modernity
Malnutrition of circumstance

A control to walk slowly
A control to walk faster
Control of the future
Control of the past

A remote dream
Remotely surviving
Remotely controlling desires
A remote appeal from across the oceans
Walking on water like God

THE SOUND OF COLD


It was so cold that I decided not to make coffee
And went back to bed after urinating on the toilet

First listening
Then watching
The ripples on the water
Feeling like Basho
In the morning:

Watching the toilet
Urine lands inside of it
The sound of the morning cold

Running back to bed
Diving under the covers
Ah the covers!

Good covers are essential
Good cover are good
Good covers are medicinal
Good covers are psychological
Good covers are wonderful

Writing love poems
Inside the sleeping bag
Making my own tepee
Imagining you are with me
Your nose rubbing against my nose
Your body rubbing against my body
Making this winter a better place

And then sleeping till I can not breathe
Waking up and stretching
And thinking:

Is this how my baby does yoga?

I hear my bones crack
My sinuses are cleared up
I can breathe again
So I sleep some more

And just before falling asleep
I remember the chiropractor
Who was scared shitless
As he tried to scared me
With a fake gun
And I wondered if he knew
I had a loaded 45

And he cracked my bones
But he broke a sweat
And he told me:
When your bones are aligned
You’ll breathe better

Fast-forward many years into future
And I am here
On my bed
And since it is cold
And it is almost Christmas Eve
I sleep some more

LIKE WHEN YOU ARE DREAMING

To Penélope Cruz.


Friendship is knowing what to do
Like when you are dreaming
With Penelope Cruz
And she’s asking you for money
At a liquor store
Because you guys were partying
And went across the street
To buy more drinks

And you know
You don’t have any money
And you say to her

“Penelope, I was going to ask you the same thing!”

But she just looks at you strangely
And pretends not to notice
What you have just said
And goes on as if nothing has happened
And that’s exactly what happened: nothing

That’s why
She buys a pack of cigarettes
And you guys continue partying

First at the house
That looks something like the
House you used to live in

Then you walk
Bar hopping
Together in the city
Through the night
And even though this is not your favorite thing to do
Because you rather be at home reading or writing
And perhaps not even her favorite thing to do
Since she probably rather be making movies
Or sleeping 11 hours a day

You continue together
Smiling at strange people
And walking into strange places
And both of you know
That this sort of thing
Is better done like this
Than alone

The problem with dreams is
How to resolve complicated situations
Without ruining the dream
For example the dream with Penelope Cruz
Went fairly good
It was to an extent
Very smooth
But when you dream

That you are arriving at your friends pad
And you are sleeping on his couch
But you found Robin Williams
Sitting where you sleep
You have a dilemma

How to continue with your mission
Which is to sleep
Without disturbing your friend’s guest
Without ruining your dream

So you go out with your friend
And his friends (Robin Williams) of who you are a fan
And you go with them
To have dinner at your host’s restaurant
And there’s a fight
But this time there’s no bullets
Flying across the tables
But food
Food all over the place
On the patrons faces
On the floor
On the chairs
On the windows
On the patron’s clothing

And you walk away from
That wasteful place
And you noticed that this
Was also a successful dream
Because you friend is not upset with you
Robin Williams thinks your pleasant fellow to be around
And you know you are going back
To waiting and comfortable sofa

THE CONTINUATIONS OF SITUATIONS



History gone astray
Fury over continuation of situations

The Taramhauras keep dragging their feet
Confounding the local intellectuals
And casting their spells on the French

They make them
Lose their way
With nature
On nature

That is the cost of the natural
The fee of organics
The high payment
For services rendered

The economy of wastefulness
Accumulation of power through dissipation

The Chiefs burning cows
Throwing gold away
Losing items
And gaining prestige

World class American Chiefs
With their arrows
And their portions of reason

The continuations of situations
Are born at random
And not at random
It produces
Esthetical effects
And political sensations

International situations
A labyrinth were access
Is denied to the automobile

They have taken down
The traffic signs
So those that follow
Will get lost
Where the streets have no name

The failure of obsolete cities
The cities of sleep
The cities of dreams

But we live on islands of experience
With remote controls of love
Because the organization of passion
Is power

GARDENS


The scenario
Is a garden in the valley
That’s what
The Muslims call it

English gardens
Are preserved like
Nature intended them to be

But they are kept
Clean and trim

The grammar of noise
In the garden

The whisper of the world
Appears just before
Falling asleep

MAKING TIME


I am not like that
Said the security guard
Like what? I thought to myself
The guard continued

I always have behaved myself
You can’t work that hard
Just to waste it all away
He looked at me
Speaking and trying to make sure
I would understand his reasons
Hoping that I would say something
I could tell he wanted me to say something
And I did not know what to say
But when it sounded like he was choking
I said: I understand
He relaxed a little and continued with his monologue

And I thought to myself
How much I wanted to be out of there
How much I wanted to tell him: enough!
Don’t give me explanations
I am not asking you to do this
You don’t have to do anything
You don’t want to do

But then I thought on how
I was there and did not wanted
To be there but it was the best
For the moment

I asked if he had
A list of phone numbers
For the different departments?

He looked at me and said
I am usually not assigned here
Then he grabbed a piece of paper
And scrolled down on it
Using his index finger

CRACKED WINDSHIELD



I have found something that I was not looking for
It was in the middle of the road
It was time broken in half

It was my present
And my past and everything else
That does exist
That is not what it is

It’s just that sometimes
I get thirsty or hungry
When I’m driving the world
When I’m looking ahead
Way into the things
That don’t quite exist yet

Like flowers that scare police officers
Like the words of Methodist ministers
Advising me to keep my eyes open
When dealing with frightened folks
And when practicing the art of prayer

Open your eyes
Because God is everywhere!

That’s what I thought
As he spoke to me
Clad in his black suit
He looked so cool
Like the men in black do

This man
With the perfect wife
And his intelligent son
Speaking to me
About his trade

It seemed to me
That he knew what he
Was talking about
Perhaps he knew
His words would save my life
On the highway

OWL


I could hear you last night
I could hear you today
You are back

Last time you scared the neighbors
They thought you were
The spirit of their dead child
You are back

Hooting in the night
Who who who!
In the dark rain

You are back
Who who who!
At midday

Scaring different people this time
Eating their chicks
Making their varmint disappear

Who who who!

Welcome back my friend
Make you creepy sounds
As I write my creepy odes

Who who who!

Scare the shit out of them
Who who who!
I will tell you who
Because I like you better than the crow

Who who who!
But I shot the crow
Who who who!
And it felt alright

Who who who!
Eat them rats
Who who who!
Please hang around
Who who who!
You know who
As well as I do

RAIN


Water comes down off and on
Hitting the roofs
Of your mind

Drops introduce themselves
Through the cracks
Dripping inside
The memories of your sight

Millions of drops land
On the fields
Of the world

Touching ground
Like inspired paratroopers
Like the wind knocking out borders
Like broken fences in the heart

PRESCRIPTION


Taste the bitterness of your deceit
Drink water
Avoid sugar

It will give you a stomach ache
But that’s what happens
When you don’t know how to spit
How to vomit the poison
That your insides are producing

The acid
You store in your organs
Is destroying your teeth

You haven’t received
The first blow
And you are broken already

Drink milk chocolate
Laughed & smile
Like children do
It will make you
Live longer
Live better
Live stronger

TELEPROMPT


Water is my teleprompt
The sound of many days
Passing by

The sound of many dogs
Approaching to bite me

The wait lines
Inside government buildings

The sound of the stapler
The sound of the gun
The moon & the stars

The distance between us
My aching joints
My aching soul

A dance that took place 20 years ago
The visions
Of my last dance

Listening to an orator
A speaker of the house
The vendors
The buyers of lies

The song on the radio
Yes… that song
About love & hate
War & peace

SLEEP ALWAYS RETURNS



The fence was folded
By the wind

It warped
It twisted

Like a used trampoline

It broke
It failed

Tomorrow will happen again
Because 8 is today
That’s what the TV is saying

This is something I do
When I feel sleepy
It sounds like music
Like singing in tune
It sounds like a soothing song

I did not say you should write it
I just made the sound
And then
You asked the questions

What?
Father…
What?
Oh father!

I never said I would do anything
What?
What?
What are you talking about dad?

Please stop writing everything I say
No way
I don’t like it dad

Sleep always conquers
Sleep always wins
Sleep never fails
Sleep always returns when you’re experienced

BANK OF AMERICA


Open a business account
We can change everything
If you use your ATM card
Once a month,
We will reverse the fees.
Do you want to open an account?

Well, since you put it that way,
It would be hard to say no.

Wha kind of work do you do Juan?

I am writer.

She gently, but rapidly typed on her keyboard,
Her fingertips were softly touching the plastic squares.

For a moment, I thought that if she wanted to see some proof
Of my vocation, I could show her my pen.

So, what kind of writing do you do?
Do you write, like books, and that sort of thing?

I saw myself, sitting in front of this banker, doing this
Business transaction, and I thought you had to be a bestseller
To be sitting here, a best seller with a lot money, or someone
Like Stephen King, or someone like a millionaire.

I sat there thinking I am not Stephen King
That I am not a millionaire
But I do think Mr. King and I
Have a common denominator
Stephen writes horror stories
And I write horrific poems.

I am freelance writer… I write whatever sells…

She looked at me and smiled
I was not smiling
I was looking at my reflection
On the window
Thinking if this was
An occasion to smile.

CROWD


Life gathers in the eyes
Of those without choice
When eyes are bloated
There’s fullness of life

Human eyes
Grow larger
With happiness
With pain
With love
And hate

Eyes ponder on
The impact
Of an awkward ending
Of an awkward life

STORM


The storm began
Without a single drop of rain
Without a single cloud
On a sunny day

The storm worked
Its effects
On the clearest sky
On the dusty ground

The storm was
Sounds clashing
With sounds
Water beating loose stones

But everything was completely dry
And there were
No incisions caused by erosion

Because victory came running
Riding a triumph
When he began
Praying into his cell phone

FALLING ASLEEP


The train slept
The rails of journey
Grew wings
And lifted up

Like a plane
Like a flock of birds

The passengers
Grew tired
Got sleepy

This account
Enters my ears
In a different language
In the language of music
In the mother tongue

HUNTING PROMISES



Let me help you
Because God has the resource
The means are only kindness

You can not denied the waiting obligation
The accidental corpse doesn’t want
To be lifted up

It is the show
Of the secrets of life

A personal interest of revelations
The rhythm of conscience
Hitting the upholstery of history

We all want to dance
We all can grove to that tune

After all
We are the people

The heart beats
And the beats are the best percussion
The best reclusion
The best resolution

Everything is like a contra of silence
I’ll make you whisper on the net
The wall falling down
The woman calling rosters
The Spanish girl having visions of time

I’ll make you whisper
I’ll make you say
I love you

CRUSH



Crush your food before eating it
Crush it with your hand
Crush it with your fangs

Crush your nourishment before adding fire
Crush it with the help of water
Crush it and then lubricate it

Crush it and it will make oil
Crush it with the energy of your heart

Crush it in the supermarket with your eyes
Crush it as you sample the glance

Crush it before digesting it
Crush it before loving it
Crush it before disposing of it

Crush don’t waste it
Crush it and give it to the wild

Crush it inside a bag of hope
Crush it and make it well
Crush it very well
Crush it for the love of the world

Crush it not before blessing it
Crush it but do it with love
Crush my sight in your arms

Crush and go
Crush and burn
Crush tomorrow
Crush the snow

THIS PLACE



Sleep till it hurts
And then have breakfast
Coffee first

Look at the clear sky
The ocean
The islands
As your molars grind
What needs to be broken

Conversations begin
And stop as soon as they started
And you realized how good it is
To sleep & eat at this place

Coffee in the morning
And wine at night
The mystic told us on the 7th day:

You have everything you need

To drive an old car
Can be amusing
If the highway is cleared of traffic
If the music on the radio reminds you
Of were you need to
Keep your eyes
Keep your hands
And how to gamble
With your soul

GOOD THOUGHTS


On my way back
Through the countryside
And not by the ocean
I was stopped
At a military check point

The soldier in cammo garments
Was eating sunflower seeds
I noticed the bag in its hand
He noticed me noticing
And he didn’t care
Neither did I

He continued eating the seeds
I continued listening to the corridos
On the transceiver
Watching how the couple in front me
Got their yellow mustang searched

Waiting for my turn to be searched
Waiting for my turn to drive
A couple of meters forward
Waiting for my turn to wait some more

Can we searched your car? he asked
Of course I said
What do you do? he asked
I am writer I said
Do you have any weapons? he asked
I said no
What do you have in in the trunk?
Clothes I said
And he said: you can go

I drove home
And then I passed home
Thinking in the importance
Of taking a siesta

PASS



I passed cars & trucks
Soldiers & their guns

I passed dreams & fears
I passed stares and glares

Numbers & letters
I passed them fast

A past life
Inside my old car

I passed free love
I passed business deals
That extended into tomorrow

I passed whatever I wanted to pass
Thinking it would get me
Closer to you

dogs & goats


as we stood outside
thinking poetry
and watching how
the wind picked up
the dust from the ground

the dogs attacked a goat
a goat who strayed from the pack
a goat that entered
through the open gate

they're going to kill it
I told my friend
and she looked concerned
and walk towards them
she went out the gate
and I heard screams

STANDING


The melodies
Are soothing my ears

The voice element
Echoes in the chambers
Of my soul

We like standing here
In timeless pondering

The messages
Filled with centuries
March towards
The encounter of love

Eyes wide open
With the morning’s surprise

The exposure of teeth
Conveys ferocious friendship

God!
How I miss
Tasting your blood

BLOCKED


The large Tahoe
Was blocking my driveway

Such a gas guzzler
Impeding the exit
Of us

I walked outside
And considered that machine
That automobile

I even asked
The young couple
A pair students
If they knew who
The owner is

The guy said
I don’t know
The girl said
You should used
Some pipes
And get it out there
We both smiled

I walk back inside
And open the faucet
Waiting for hot water
To come out
Looking at liquid soap
And used sponges

When the hot water steam
Began to fill the kitchen
The SUV drove away

descanso


es una senda abrupta
una explosión en la vereda
un camino accidentado

cuando la anciana cayó
el piso se hizo rompecabezas
estalló en mil pedazos

hasta allí
puso dios el límite
donde se parte la arena
donde brinca el agua

donde el tiempo
tiene brazos y pies
y los espejos respiran
aman y sienten

GIANT


Seafood is good for the soul
I heard the voice say

Then another voice:
La vida es una apuesta pendiente

She put her hand on her neck
As if she was strangling herself

Or maybe just
Covering a wound

Looking up & down
Towards the sky
Ands towards the ground

And I did the same
But did not noticed
Anything out of the ordinary

The British mothers
Push their babies strollers
A giant walks by

With her two daughters
She’s pleasant to the eye
But she’s giant

STOREFRONT


I grabbed the movie and walk out the door
I thought it was late
And I drove in the night

And it was dangerous because the windows
Where wet with water that refused to disappeared

And I drove slow
Like when you want to make a good impression

I drove slow
Like when you feel tender & romantic
And it’s something more than sex

I drove slow
Because it was simply better to remain alive

I drove slow
Because sometimes you can’t trust your eyes

I drove slow
Like when you want to love the world
And save up some gasoline

I drove slow
Thinking it was not that slow as I took the corner

I drove slow
Remembering the time I wrecked on ice

I drove slow
And parked inside a stripped mall

I walked away form the car noticing the moisture
That must be corroding the lungs of America
And inside I gave money to the clerk
I gave him a green bill
And he gave me 2 blue bills and some coins back

I drove slow
Because I knew it was more dangerous than ever

I drove slow
Because I wanted to buy that soft drink

I drove slow
Because on the other side of the can soda
I found an Old No 7

I drove slow
For you
Because you got out of you car
And looked at me puzzled
In a business suit
And blue nylons
Your gray automobile
Parked next to mine

THE RESPECT OF BEAUTY


I see your photograph
And think of the poems

Those poems that lay
Sleeping in your notebook
In your mind

On in the invention
Of your secrets

I think of the challenge
Those words could ignite
In our fast-forward lives

I lay down
I lay low

Enough of steeping on stones

I go down and look
At your picture
One more time
Before starting
The dream machine

PANTS & SKIRTS


Pants & skirts
Sometimes go together
Like when it is winter
Up north

Pants & skirts
Sometimes give birth
To comments
Like the remarks
From New York

Pants & skirts
Untwined the memory
Making it travel

20 years to the past
20 years to the future
20 melodies to the heart

Pants & skirts
Protection from the wind
And the stations
From the mind

OUTSIDE


The woman
In a brand new minivan
Stopped in front of my house
Got out her car
And began cleaning the hood
With a cloth

A man
With dark sun glasses
In a beat up sedan
Stopped a cross the street
And began
Checking her out

I looked at
Both of them
Through the blinds
In my window

The woman
Who looks like a housewife
Looked in my direction
Got in her car
Put her hair in a pony tail
And drove off

I walked away from my window
Towards my table
On wrote this poem

TORCH



Akademics
Also do exercise

The guy
With the cowboy hat
And the red jacket

Likes asking:
What time is it?

Perhaps he should meet
The akademic sprinter

The backhoe
Is getting rid of
The flagstone

And there’s more
Barefoot walkers

HOT PURSUIT


Green car with a latter
On the roof
Made a tight turn
And makes it alright

And everybody
Feels just alright

I noticed
A black Mercedes
On the rearview mirror

I don’t like it
Since is not a sedan
But a SUV

I put the pedal to the metal
And the Mercedes kept up
Almost bumper to bumper

There were 2 pretty girls
Following us
And I said to my boy:

Son
I don’t know if we
Should be concerned
Or flattered

CHRONOMETER


The woman’s hand
Becomes a claw
And the folks say

Run!
Run!
Run!

But the sand
Is firm
And the tide is low

And walking
Is better
Than ever before

Endless inspiration
Inside the lungs

HAPPENSTANCE


Certainty is as natural
As breathing

I didn’t see
A single ship
On the water

But there were
2 airplanes
On the sky

I encountered
My friend & his lovely wife
On the sand

We greeted each other
And talked about
Birthdays & exercise

As the Italian girl
Walked by
And said hello

LEAD


The bird is dying
The woman is jogging
And the black lab
Has a tight rope on its neck
Being led by a man with a kind face

Eyes are crying
Life is passing
Girls are walking

Fishermen are fishing
And the algae snaps
As I step on it

The man with the pole
Is in a trance
Examines the weights