POEM FOR THE NEW YORKER

If my words
Land on
That paradise
Of letters
And meaning
It would be better
Than finding
A lost treasure.

USAMA

Bin Laden
Got away
He was
Last seen
Driving a
Black minivan.

POEM TO LENNY KRAVITZ

Brother
After all these years
You still have
The touch of melody
Your musical experiments
Laden with risk
Fertilize gracefulness
You still have
Tons of feeling.

ASFALTO

Las carreteras
Se dilatan
Como millones de
Serpientes venenosas
Por todo el mundo.



ASPHALT

The highways stretch
Like millions
Of poisonous snakes
Through out
The whole world.

THE POLICEMAN

It is not
The same
To shoot
Than to be
Shot at
When the
Bank robbers
Opened fire
You did not feel
Tough anymore
You became
Small with fear
You had a
Bowl movement
Your foot
Pressed against
The brake pedal
Your squad car
Came to a stop
You let them
Get away.