PROMISE

As I was being kissed
And bear hugged
By the beautiful women
My eyes searched
For you
I wanted you
To be there
You will know
I am telling
The truth
If you examine
How I was winking
At the satellites

RESVALADERO


El mundo se está resbalando y no me importa
Porque está lleno de mentiras
Y si se descalabra entiendo que nosotros también
Estaremos en una sartén similar

Pero no está en nuestro (o en mí) estilo de trabajo
Y además hay unos sujetos sospechosos que se llaman memos

Ésos se encargan a control remoto pero se recogen
En la boca de un monstruo de colmillos filosos
Y a veces los pedidos se obtienen sin ningún problema
Pero otras veces se sufren laceraciones como las que dejan
Los cuchillos de un carnicero

No es que sea victima de la apatía
Hay cosas que sí me importan
Que me importan mucho

Los que sí me importan son aquellos que están en el mundo
Pero cuando uno de ellos sufre sufrimos todos
Quizá a eso de deba el cáncer y otras enfermedades

El sufrimiento de cada ser humano multiplicado por
Todos los que sufrimos en la faz de la tierra
Equivale a la ecuación del dolor

Lo que tiene menos prioridad son las finanzas
La bolsa de valores es la que está llena de ilusiones
Sueños digitales que se desvanecen
Como hierba seca

La verdadera Wall Street
Está entre California y Tijuana
Donde está esa pared metálica que separa familias
Que separa idiomas y dialectos
Ese barómetro de las clases sociales
Esa obstrucción que bloquea las arterias de la supervivencia
Ésa es más importante que la de Nueva York

Como los memos son invisibles
Esos pasan por arriba y por las partituras del metal



Al resbalarme me corté los tejidos del brazo
Y mi madre me llevó al hospital y los doctores
Suturaron mi piel y cobraron
Muy bien por hacer el bien

La segunda vez no me pudieron llevar al doctor
Porque faltaba dinero
Pero las plantas nunca le han faltado
Y puso una al fuego
Y la cocinó como si fuera comida
Y después la colocó junto a mi lesión
Y el espíritu de la planta reparó los daños

¡Oh las plantas del amazonas!
Gimen conmovedoramente las cabezas de Hollywood
Aun creo que no saben lo que dicen
Pero los memos sí saben y los hacen decir cosas
Que sólo los memos entienden

Cuando conocí a los memos me resbalé muchas veces
Me forzaron a tener la perspectiva de la serpiente
Y aprendí a tragar el polvo que levanta el viento
¡Malditos memos! ¡Como los odié!
Pero después me di cuenta que ellos subsisten
Con el odio de la gente
Decidí dejar de odiarlos tanto

Ahora sólo los odio poquito
Porque después de todo ellos me enseñaron la mansedumbre
Y les debo la adquisición de esa virtud
Y si dejo de odiarlos desaparecerán por completo
Y creo que son un mal cruel pero necesario

Los usureros son un mal innecesario
Crueles usureros
Malvados usureros
Perversos usureros
Salarios obscenos de los usureros
Financiadores de las guerras psicosomáticas
Conspiradores contra la humanidad
Denigradores de los gobiernos del mundo
Mamones porque son hijos de mamon


Los usureros les temen a los memos
Porque los memos pueden hacer que
El dinero o sea el narcótico de los usureros
Pierda todo su valor

Los usureros desean dominar el mundo
Para explotarlo y en enriquecerse
Los memos desean dominar el mundo
Porque no pueden controlar su instinto de reproducción
Desean nacer y renacer en las mentes de
Hombre y mujeres
Niños y niñas
Les gusta atormentar a los ancianos
Los memos no respetan clases sociales
Ni religión o partidos políticos

Casinos en llamas
Usureros ardidos
Usureros ardiendo
Usureros ustedes al fin
Son el combustible
Para la carne asada
Y los memos están felices
Porque su reproducción
Se multiplica con las altas temperaturas

I’ll be reading some of my work tomorrow

@

DANDY DEL SUR
6th Street & Revolution Ave
Downtown Tijuana Mexico
7 PM
FREE ADMISION


FOR MORE INFORMATION
PLEASE CALL 3169962

ASK FOR ARACELI

SKINNY GIRL


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

MY WINDOW


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

DAILY EXERCICE


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

BEAUTIFUL LINES


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

PARKING LOT


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

DREAMY PASSENGERS


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

COMES & GOES


Here comes the backhoe
She stops
And she’s fast
And she leaves
But she always
Comes back again

On the road
The samurai
Has its own trailer

Climbing up
The rocky road
The black bronco
Also has a trailer

The man of fatigue
Did a superb job
Because they come

The federal men
Selling juice
Subsidizing the
Electrification of vermin

They keep coming….

The decrepit oilmen
Selling trust
Selling hope
Selling whatever

The dump truck
Driving slowly
And looking
Towards the music

I also come
For no reason at all
Moving gravity
With an aftertaste
Of desire
Poking at cooked meat
With my fork
Opening the stomach
Of a quesadilla
And finding the truth
Has always been white

A melting certainty
Slippery like tequila

I exercise my taste buds
As I contemplate you

Your movements
The angles
Of your body
The continuity
Of your lips
The extension of your legs

Outside the heavy machinery
Keeps coming and going

Inside I
Rather be with you
Sitting next to you
As you try not to
Fall asleep

FATIGUES


Decoys are used
In hunting and
I wonder if the drill
On his hand is stolen
California construction
Is making a difference
And it comes
It arrives
I think they can’t
Resist the music
And they come closer
When they listen
To the melody
That comes forth
From the mouth
Of the toddler who
Rides a dirt bike

DILEMMA


How can
I do battle
Against your love
If you feed me
You give me drink
And you are
So beautiful

UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE


Breakfast is
Better with live music
Hypnotic tones
Mixed with
Coffee & sugar
Strawberry aftertaste
Broken plates are
Better than drums
Steam rises
From whole wheat
A guitar played
By innocent hands
Is healthier than protein

CROP CIRCLES


Do you dig it?
Yes, I dig it
I also dig the tattoo
On your ankle
Do you?
Yes, I do
What else you dig?
I dig you
I dig you too
Where you digging
When you asked
If I am a poet?
Polka dots?
No
What else you dig?
I dig trenches
In times of stillness
But I dig you the most
Why?
Because of tender memories
I dig what you have created
I dig your mind
I dig your miniskirt

ESTRADA 2


Cloning is
Obstinate stupidity
Insistence in modification

Not everything
Can be altered

Do you think I am German scientist?

You better look
For blues eyes
And pallid skin elsewhere

You too
Don’t look
Like Erick Estrada

You too
Have a genetic flaw

You like
A mortified Doberman
With an owner
That has neglected
Your mind

Each time you wag
Your tale
You tell a lie

You
Like this
Are most likely
To autodestruct

Longevity is
Not one of your strengths
I think you know this

And if I adopted you
Police uniform and all
I couldn’t guarantee anything

It be so painful
To teach you new tricks
That would be inhumane

I will not torture

But you
Are so dirty
I will give you bath

What do you expect me to do?

You
Coming around
Interfering with work

Do you expect me to
Give you a bone?

You can not change what you are

I can’t help
To see you
To look at you
To think of you
To measure you

To place you in
A window of intuition

I know
It is a sad picture
But that’s what I do

I can not change what I am

SPLENDLOR


The morning is like an empty cup
And the sun hurts my eyes
With it cancerous splendor

The sun has more radioactivity
Than a nuclear battle ship

I still believe love
Is what kills the best

Ultraviolet rays are kisses
Hidden inside the skin
The pores are reflectors
Of this energy

People camp on the side of the road
Selling human ideas
Selling human sins
And human souls

More than horrifying
This is tedious
Because no one wants
To buy insignificance

I rather go back to the hill
And stare at my empty cup
And let the sun burn
What is left of you

Radiation is my radio
Radiation is my car
Radiation with constellations
Radiation from afar

Only beauty
Is truly shocking
That’s why they fear
The Most High

Miserable servants
Up for sale
They’re about to be released
And when this happens
And their domination stops
The will no know
What to do

INTENTION


Una camioneta verde se detiene
Frente a la choza
Un zombie sale y habla con el chofer
El polvo los rodea


Over the years I have seen
A white man walking the dirt road
In this dusty town
I have seen him at liquor stores
Grocery stores
Mechanic shops
At the beach
Down the road from my home
Or walking past street corners
Or mixing concrete by hand
Or just standing behind me
Looking very dirty
Looking like a broken man

I suspect he might be American
But the simple fact that he’s white
Does not guarantee he's from the USA
As a matter of fact there’s more
Nonwhites in the States than Anglo-Saxons

He could be from:

Russia
England
Germany
France
Spain
Israel

Any place on earth….

Or just an Alien
With a fading disguise

I been tempted to give him a hand
Help him out because he is
In desperate need

But he looks at me
The same way
I look at him

How can I behave like an altruist
Without committing suicide?

How to approach him without
The concern of:

Killing or being killed?

I confess I don’t have a spectacular answer
My precious secrets
Will not be enough for this dilemma
But I can’t just look the other way
And pretend he does not exist

I will have to do what
I always do when
I ran out

Of options
Of answers
Of ideas
Of bullets
Of medicine
Of hope
Of sex
Of health
Of food
Of beer
Of friends
Of foes
Of work
Of leisure

I will have to pray

Pray to the God of the poor
The God of the slaves
The God of a hypnotized generation
The God of my peers whom are loosing their minds

A God of endurance
A God of supernatural strength

To the God of normalcy that hangs crucified
Inside Catholic temples
To the dismay and terror of escapists
And to the hope
Of those who feel just like Him

A God of reality
A God that knows pain first hand
A God that can relate with unspeakable feelings

A God who is invisible
A God who makes his children invisible
When they a crossing
The borders of oppression

A brown God
A dark God
A God with a popular name
A God that looks very human

Like a Mexican
A Palestinian
A Chicano or
A Blackman

A God that does not need machines
To levitate
To elevate
To go home
To come back for us

A God that likes to walk on the beach
And continues walking inside the water
But He never swims
He just keeps walking

A God that created everything
The visible
The invisible
Every flying being
Known or unknown
And every man & beast
Ruling the world or
Living underground

NILA


Nila
I love your face
What if we were hunting together
And you were single
And we fell in love

Nila
What would happen
As we lay side by side
In the darkness
The burning flame of love
Would keep us awake
Watchful for the sharp twist to the heart

Nila
You have the presence of nature
You have an overwhelming semblance
Your beauty is strength

Nila
I tremble when I see you
Because I know what you are capable of

Nila
You are a ferocious river
A killing lioness
A hurricane
A tornado
A smile that disables

Nila
You are an alien
A dove
A fisherwoman
A favorite from God

Nila
I know why you are a conqueror
I know you
I love you
I wish you a long life
I see you
I dream you


Nila
My teeth are breaking apart
Like when
Saint Genevieve presence
Would pulverize
The pottery
The clay
The ceramics
All the brims where
Demons would hide
Awaiting the lips of children

Nila
Tonight you have won
The hearts of the world
The hope of the people
Deep grateful feelings
From those extraordinary creatures
The need you the most

ACROSS THE STREET


That’s right
You wear your face
As it were heavy
As if the weight
Is going to break your neck

Most people could think
It’s your own fault
But I suspect you
Are being manipulated
Influenced by someone that spooked
The life out of you

I understand your position
And I think there’s hope for you
You are going to have to serve somebody
Remember that Bob Dylan tune?

I think someone spooked the life out of him too
And he started writing protestant songs

His premise
Zimmerman’s
Is correct

You are in a world of pain
Might as well make that hurt
Work in your favor
And serve with
Fine & beautiful
Human beings

OPERATION


As you recover in your bed, I want you to know that I am with you, that you are more beautiful than ever, that soon everything will be wonderful…


When I was
On the operating table
I was told by one of the attendants:

“You are going to get very cold”

This operation was different from the rest
Never did I feel more alone

At first
As I entered the O.R.
I was afraid of the surgeon
I study his eyes
And he also
Looked afraid

And I felt a cruel coldness possessing my body
And I thought to myself:

This is it man
You are not going to make it this time
You are not coming out alive

And I clenched my teeth and my jaws
To enter the other side
To prepare for a possible
Encounter with God
Or the devil

And I felt a warm touch
On my right hand
And I looked to see
Who was touching me
And I could only see her eyes
She had the most beautiful eyes

The eyes of a Byzantine nun
The eyes of pious Muslim woman
The eyes of companionship
The eyes sympathy
The eyes of hope
The eyes of arson
The eyes of life
The eyes of true love

And I fell in to a comfortable sleep
With her touch

I thought of my first girlfriend
I thought of my first wife
I though of wine and
I thought of the Eucharist

And I reckoned all the other times
When I was in dire straits
There was always someone there

With me
For me

Like the time an American was in the hospital
In my room
Next to my bed
I did not understand
The English language back then
But she was trying to speak to me
To comfort me
To lift my spirits up
God only knows why she was altering her face
Perhaps she was tired and she was on her way out
And I was young and was on my way in
And my nurse
My beautiful nurse
Another one of those that emanates warmth
Oh how I loved her!
She told me my roommate’s codename was
La Belleza

I was 8 years old
But I felt like 18

In spite of feeling alone
You are never alone
There’s always someone
There’s always something
Near enough or from afar
Willing & able to touch
With you
For you