MONTES SANCHEZ


He seems like
A nice guy
The type that
Is trying to do
His job

I couldn’t spot
A pistol
On him
Perhaps he
Was wearing
An ankle holster

I find them good
For disguise
But impractical
In the field

Maybe he had
An AK—47
In his beat up
VW bug

But he was closer
To my threshold
And further away
From his
Pictographic beetle

I was tempted
To ask him
To enter

Perhaps he smelled
My intentions
So we talked
On the outside

I saw
A Mexican sun
A summer of
The 7th month
Tattooed in
His eyes

SPOTLIGHT


She cries
And her tears
Are blue

The price
Of fame
Constricts
The heart

And sometimes
The throat

Electronic
Prayers are
Not the best

But sometimes
That’s the only
Help there is

SECRET SWINE FARMER


Pedro
Champion of ratones

Rodent with
An ocean view

Apostle of
Child endangerment

Demolisher
Of natural resources

Virus for
Planet warming

Dealer of misery
A life
Like this
Is not worth much

It would better
For you
To become
A magician

An execute
A disappearing act

A


I can drink coffee
And look
At you
For eternity

I can sit
At your table
And watch you
Smile hesitantly
Forever

I can see
Your body
Create the most
Amazing light
Near the sea

I can feel
Your touch like
A nuclear summer

Like an ignition
Of the soul
Detonation
Of desire

NO LLEVO
TU CELULAR
EN MIS MANOS


Me caes gordo
Carlos Slim

Tú no quieres
A los mexicanos

Y los mexicanos
No te quieren

Tus servicios
Son pésimos

¿Por qué no bajas
Tus precios?

¿Por qué no ayudas
Al pueblo
Que te convirtió
En magnate?

¿Por qué no repartes
Tus riquezas
Con los pobres
Esos que te mantienen
En la cima de
Los millones?

Algunos dicen
Que tienes el
Primer lugar
Entre los más ricos
Del mundo

Yo digo
Que eres
El número 1
En ser codo

LES ILLUMINATIONS


I like to read it
As I sit
In the bathroom

It makes
More sense
That way

A good
Exercise for
Reading out loud

I just pretend
To have a
French accent

I am sure
The cows
Won’t mind

The horses
Are definitely
In agreement
With this

REVENGE


Mosquitoes land
On my skin
As I sleep

Pestering
Mini vampires
Of the night

I kill them
In daylight

They bite
In moonlight

I crush them
With my blue
Flyswatter

When they get
Too bloated
Lethargic is
Their escape

Sometimes they
Don’t even bother
To fly away

And when they
Lay dead
Burst open
I see my blood
Around them