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