Thursday, August 04, 2005
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
THE KISS
A beautiful blond girl without legs
Had a crush on me
But I had been busy
Nursing Bob Dylan back to health
He suffered from an upset stomach
So I bought him some Alka-Seltzer’s
Since he let me crash
In his apartment while I was in town
I avoided the legless blond girl
As much as I could
Till I was confronted by
Her friends and relatives
And I could not find a way out
I looked to my left and I saw Hank
Better known as Bukowski
Last I heard he was dead
But he looked very much alive
I asked him if I should kiss her
He said to me:
There’s nothing better for the
Predicaments of the world
Than a kiss
A beautiful blond girl without legs
Had a crush on me
But I had been busy
Nursing Bob Dylan back to health
He suffered from an upset stomach
So I bought him some Alka-Seltzer’s
Since he let me crash
In his apartment while I was in town
I avoided the legless blond girl
As much as I could
Till I was confronted by
Her friends and relatives
And I could not find a way out
I looked to my left and I saw Hank
Better known as Bukowski
Last I heard he was dead
But he looked very much alive
I asked him if I should kiss her
He said to me:
There’s nothing better for the
Predicaments of the world
Than a kiss
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Sunday, July 31, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Monday, July 25, 2005
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Martínez
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8:58 PM
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Sunday, July 24, 2005
BINATIONAL DAYS
The jornadas became a journey
And the bus was better than a Boeing 747
Because I met a hoodlum
In search of peace
With his shaved head
And his LA baseball hat
Going back to the desert
To that familiar place of motherhood
He said Los Angeles
Is a Motherless place
He asked for my profession
And I said I was
A broker of simplicity
And I gave him my red lighter
He got back on the bus
And it disappeared
With the elements of distance
I stayed at the San Luis Station
Watching the serene
People around me
I was smoking
I begun walking
And asked a taco vendor
For the Frontera Motel
And he said the whole
World is a motel
And all of the universe a Frontier
I kept walking and
I saw a taxi driver
Talking to other Taxi people
And I asked him to take me
To the Motel Frontera
And he said to
Put out my cigarette so I did
I got in the car so old
So practical and beautiful
And we drove in the midst
Of the night and I was cautious of him
And he was cautious of me
And I wished the LA gang member
Was in the car watching my back
And the tension melted
With his out of tune AM radio
Whispering trivia questions
About presidents’ war and history
And we both gave our best answers
Our best shots to the questions
And not to each other
And he got them right
I got them wrong
And there was a feeling of friendship
When he dropped me off
At the motel’s driveway
The clerk asked for my name
And the city I came from
But her voluptuous lips
Added softness to her questions
And I answered her
She handed me a TV remote control
And a key with the number “12” on it
I got in the room and I lit a smoke on the balcony
I turned the TV on and watched
Some music videos and most of them
Were bad videos with pitiful soulless songs
I got out of the room and introduced
Myself to some women that looked like
Some sort of writers because of their
I want to get the hell out of here demeanor
They were in the courtyard
And one of them said I looked
Like a critic that has written more
Than 100 books and I did not know
How to respond to that
“I’ll take it as a compliment” I said
Then I went to the bar next door
And sat on a stool and ordered a beer
When I paid the barkeep said
Thank you “mijo”
I had a couple of beers and tried
To write a poem but I couldn’t
So I went to sleep
The next day a timid girl
Brought breakfast to my doorstep
And it was good
I walked down to the courtyard
And saw a guy who looked
Like a student and I asked him
If he was part of Jornadas
He said yes and I asked him
For a ride and he said to
Get in the VW bug
With Mexico City License plates
And then more people came
And got inside the tiny bug
And I remembered some of their faces
They were performance poets
The ones that are happy when people get upset
And we drove to some university
In the desert and the parking lot
Was like many sand dunes
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Martínez
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9:12 AM
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Friday, July 22, 2005
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11:00 AM
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Monday, July 18, 2005
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12:09 AM
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Sunday, July 17, 2005
BROKEN
You don’t know it
But the storm is
Fast approaching
A tsunami of love
Kills the lovers
Send out an S.O.S
And make sure
Your heart
Has a liferaft
You don’t know it
But the storm is
Fast approaching
A tsunami of love
Kills the lovers
Send out an S.O.S
And make sure
Your heart
Has a liferaft
Posted by
Martínez
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12:04 AM
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Friday, July 15, 2005
TIME PASSES BY LIKE A BROKEN LOCOMOTIVE
Eternity has been forgotten
In a dental office
There’s nothing sublime about this
Treatment for barter
I give them my time & money
And they mess with my open mouth
Using spooky instruments
Against my gums
I have an epiphany about
Whether or not I should be a poet
I am suspicious of the chemicals
They are injecting in me
My heart tells me
It’s too late to stop poesy
Because I have already
Fallen in love
With such difficulties
And dread sets in
It sits on the stool next to me
And it smiles
All I can see is a row
Of bleached teeth.
Eternity has been forgotten
In a dental office
There’s nothing sublime about this
Treatment for barter
I give them my time & money
And they mess with my open mouth
Using spooky instruments
Against my gums
I have an epiphany about
Whether or not I should be a poet
I am suspicious of the chemicals
They are injecting in me
My heart tells me
It’s too late to stop poesy
Because I have already
Fallen in love
With such difficulties
And dread sets in
It sits on the stool next to me
And it smiles
All I can see is a row
Of bleached teeth.
Posted by
Martínez
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11:36 PM
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Wednesday, July 13, 2005
BORDER INSPECTOR
Some agents never learn
This one got away
Before I could
See his
Government Issue nametag
He was relieved by
A minority official
Someday I’ll see him again
Doing what he likes to do best
Harassing foreigners
And asking women to get out
Of their cars
So he can yearn
After their bodies
Slowing the lane on purpose
And making people
Late on the appointments
Of their lives
Next time I’ll write
Something nice about him
So he can google his name
And read about himself
On a border patrol poem
Some agents never learn
This one got away
Before I could
See his
Government Issue nametag
He was relieved by
A minority official
Someday I’ll see him again
Doing what he likes to do best
Harassing foreigners
And asking women to get out
Of their cars
So he can yearn
After their bodies
Slowing the lane on purpose
And making people
Late on the appointments
Of their lives
Next time I’ll write
Something nice about him
So he can google his name
And read about himself
On a border patrol poem
Posted by
Martínez
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9:52 PM
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Monday, July 11, 2005
Sunday, July 10, 2005
POETRY IN THE WORKPLACE
He handed me
A piece of paper
And promptly
Went back to work
It read:
“Woman after woman
It’s never the same
Chasing a ghost
That seems like a dream
You try to disregard
There’s only regret”
His second poem
He’s making progress
He handed me
A piece of paper
And promptly
Went back to work
It read:
“Woman after woman
It’s never the same
Chasing a ghost
That seems like a dream
You try to disregard
There’s only regret”
His second poem
He’s making progress
Posted by
Martínez
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11:16 PM
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Saturday, July 09, 2005
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2:13 PM
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Friday, July 08, 2005
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8:36 PM
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Wednesday, July 06, 2005
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