AMOR

Love can’t
Be contained by borders
It is sometimes sweet
Like diabetics
You can’t contain love
Inside the walls
Of commercial exploitation
Of strategic defamation
Hypnotic indoctrination
In the death of a nation
In secret relocations
Sinister intimidation
Attempts of assassination
Threats of incarceration
Destruction of evidence
With avarice and incineration
Ambushes of desperation
Wishes of annihilation
Souls of exportation
And the poison of importation
And all the ions
That appear on my path
Like lost dogs
Looking for leftovers
Licking my dusty shoes
As I watch
Unfamiliar faces

BURNING BRIGHT

I was working
On her poems
Typing away
On my portable Olivetti
Her first book
Sensual poems
Love poems
Poems of desire
Poems of hope
Of pain
And redemption
Of death
And something
Called life
Loving her
Amongst all
That poetry
Seemed like
The natural
Next step
There is something
In the poetic
That works
Like an aphrodisiac
There is always
An element
Of seduction
That lives
Between the lines
Of most poems
It’s like the sun
That shines on my face
As I write
Sitting in this car
A raft at the center
Of this sea of traffic
And the weatherman
Called for rain
But the sun
Is burning bright

SOMETHING LIKE THAT

So poetry
It’s just like that
A paradox of
Existential ingredients
The art of life
The formula of breathing
And when everything
Is consumed by the
Inability of our flight
When I stand
Naked before you
With a ravaged soul
And devastated emotions
Know that my heart
Is intact
Pulsating your memory
Pronouncing
With each beat
Your name

A POEM FOR RON COHN
MY EMPLOYER

“I will be fair with you”
Ron paused and then continued
“you, be fair with me”

I was helping one
of Mr. Cohn patrons
an award winning novelist
who likes to shop at
Henry’s Marketplace Chula Vista

I replied
“I’m helping a customer”
Ron barked
“you’ve been talking for awhile”
then he amplified his demeanor
“it’s time to go back to work”

I wonder if Martin will ever
come back to Ron’s store
I wonder what he will write
on his next
newspaper column

I looked at the pasta bags
they looked like
lost stars
in a galaxy of greed