SURGERY
(ANOTHER 1)



It’s challenging
To write
After an operation
Analgesic dreams
Seem to
Hinder the
Creative act
A matter
Of embarrassment
Or a vision joy

The nurse said
I was not going
To remember anything
I still remember
Her face and
The lovely way
She gave me
A can of apple juice
And I drank
From it

In a scale of
1—10
Where is
Your pain?

An 8
I said
And she said
This will
Make you
Feel better

And I felt tingling
On my
Upper body

In a scale of
1—10
Where is
You pain?


A 7
I said
And she
Injected 1 more
On my IV

And I felt
As if spices
Were swimming
All over
My head

I don’t remember
If she asked me
A 3rd time
About the famous
Pain scale

I do remember
Telling her something
About the number 6

But I don’t know
If she did anything
About it

WHISK


Dogs eat beans
Behind the bushes
They were
Never sweet
So they had
Cocoa powder
For desert
When you simmer
All of this
Magic happens
A blond
Woman appears
Eating guitars

PURCHASE


I bought myself
A pig
It’s green
And blue

I will
Make it fat
And then
Break it

But the salesman
Said to me
(En español)
I don’t need
To do it
That way

He said
I could cut
A whole in
In the gut

Take the goods out
Then patched it up
And use it again

TECATE


A poetry reading
In a brewery
That’s the way
God intended it

I believe this
As a matter
Of faith

The poet
That carries
A castle
On his surname
Convinced me
That all taverns
Should be bookstores

A safe heaven
For readers
And writers
And listeners
And friends
And enemies

The poet
That first translated
Bukowski’s poems
Into Spanish
Has wisdom
That can be discerned
When you drink
Firewater with him

Mayor Nick Inzunza should be California’s next governor

… the unreal half-artistic professions, which, while they pretend to be close to art, in practice deny and attack the existence of all art - as, for example, all of journalism does and almost all criticism…

R. M. Rilke.

LA MESA
AS SHE SPOKE TO ME
I WAS WRITING

Your face has
The perfect constellations

El silencio es una ventana
Para encontrar tesoros

Personal movements bring
Drops of revelry

Y las sonrisas
Se reparan
Con proteínas

Your eyes
Are crystals
Better than diamonds

Tus brazos
Y tus piernas
Son como
El mar
Pero viven
En las nubes
Del deseo

Your beauty
Is tall enough
To reach
My solar system

A POEM OF REMEMBRANCE
FOR RON COHN


Ron
I still remember
Your peculiar order
Your strange wish
Your tenebrous words

Your wantonness for
Something impossible
That lacerating message
Offensive movements
From your lips

I still recall
Your command:

“I want this place
Spotless like
A Cathedral”

I am sorry Ron
Your store
Is not a place
Of venerations
Your market
Worships the
Love of money

It’s going to take
More than
Illuminating rows
Of 1’s
(I am flattered)
To see better

It’s going to take
More than
Nickels and dimes
To repair the damage

Your place
Yes it’s dirty
With the blood
Of dead meat
And the stench
Of rotting fish

And I will continue
Cleaning it
Till it becomes
Spotless like
An Operating Room

REQUEST TO MY MANAGER

David
Give me Sundays off
Because of my
Sliced fingers
&
My shot meniscus

David Arias
Give me weekends off
And I will pray
To all the saints
For you

When you are
Fishing in the sea
On your nice boat
In a beautiful
Sunday morning

You can always
Use prayers
When you are
Deep in the waters

COPS IN TJ

2 nights in a row
I have been pulled over
The cops don’t ask
For money anymore

They just ask quick questions like:
“¿Cómo andas?”
And I said something to the effect of
“Ando bien”

I see how he’s holding his pistol
Ready pull it out
From his holster
Gringo style

I read his name badge
I always like to know the name
Of those who consider
Sending me
6 feet under

And I can tell he’s wearing
A bullet proof vest
I also know
I don’t have a chance

I reach for the glove compartment
To look for a lost
Vehicle registration card

And when he sees
My hand
Getting so close
He said
It’s okay
You can go

And I said
Something like
“Have a nice day”
Or something efficient
Like that

And the 1 that
Stopped me tonight
Had a lot of
Saints around
His wrist
And he saw
A lot of
Worn comfortable
Prayers around mine

He was concerned
With how I maneuver
My left turns
He asked me
Why I drive this way
And I could do
Was show him
The huevos
I had just bought

I told him I was
Running late
And that I needed to
Take care of my family

Then he said he was going to
Take me to a judge
And let him or her decide
If I needed to pay a fine
I told him I would follow him
And he said
“No, I will follow you”

I started my engine
And drove towards the
Unknown judge
Towards the unknown
Destination and I
Looked in my rearview mirror
I could see no police car
Following me
So I looked for this policeman
All over downtown
And I got tire of looking
And drove home
Amongst the unbearable traffic

PHOTOCOPIES

I don’t like Kinko’s
But sometimes
There’s no other choice
But to stare at
The apathetic employees
Burdened by
The sadness
Of mergers

This morning
Was different
I was able to get
Across the border
Without incident

I sometimes feel
½ the inspectors
Are friendly
And the other .5
Would like to see me
On the wrong side
Of the fence
Forever

My truck
Passed inspection
It also passed
CHP officers
As they worked
Detained cars
The 1’s driven
By the working class

This time Kinko’s
Was also different
The worker
That helped me
Looked a lot
Like a crazy
American youth pastor
That used to
Imitate sumo wrestlers
On Mexican summer trips

He paid close attention
To detail
And even made
A literary comment
About my poem
He was the best Kinko’s guy
He should be the owner

WORKING DAYLIGHT

In the morning sun
I was told
There was
A Santana wind coming

I drove towards
The border
And the line
Was so short
Like a snake
Chopped off
With a machete

The inspector had
The sun’s radiance
On her face
As if she had just
Come down
A holy mountain
Bless her soul

In the organic store
I was offered
Crackers with cheese
I ate them
Inside a freezer

My friend was
Kind enough
To share his food
With me
&
I shared a poem
With him

He paid money
For his food
I traded
My vanity
For the poem

http://keeponcrossin.com/

AN ORGANIC POEM
FOR RON COHN

Oh Ron Cohn
Employer in
Pursuit of
My life

David Arias
(Your boy wonder)
Has written me
A heartfelt memo

Nothing too artistic
Some sort of a
Marketable threat
With feelings
Dripping between
The lines

He has ambushed
Poor Aaron
&
Poor Pedro

Making them partakers
In the
Organic cloud
Of witnesses

And now even
Popeye the sailorman
Would think twice
Before eating
The spinach
You sell
Not because
He’s afraid of the
E. coli outbreak

But because
He understands
The seriousness of
The diseases
Of the soul

Your store smells
Like it has been
Fumigated with exploitation

That odor gives me headaches
And makes me sneeze out
The most sinister
Of your intentions

And I can still smell
That poison
On your shelves

The cries
Of the hurt children
Those who fell
On your floors
Are flammable
They will ignite

BORDER PATROL
AGENT LOTT

God did not
Turned you
Into a statue
Of salt

But He
Grabbed your arm
And did not
Let go

You said
It’s immaterial
I say
It’s mystical

You tell me
To take it easy
But I would like
To know
Why are you
So uptight?

CBP AGENT

Such a nice girl
If I wasn’t taken
I would ask her out

He surname
Is phonetically
Beautiful

She told me
I had a whale
In my plate
But all
I could see
Was the tail

Some kind of trophy
On the front
Of my truck?

I guess we could
Cut it
In little pieces
And fire a shot
At starvation

We could feed
The children
And the families
Of the working class

RON COHN INC & DAVID ARIAS
THE MICROBIOTIC DUO
&
THE GLOOMY STORY OF
HENRY’S MARKETPLACE
CHULA VISTA


But batman & robin were better
Because they were professionals
And they had faith

But you guys
Are a pair of bozos
Trying to gain back control
Of your rat infested joint

And the cockroaches
Have found their shrine
In the work
Of your hands

And you
Crunching numbers
While your workers
Are crushing their limbs

You have a smile of profit
While your butchers
Say farewell to their fingers

You look the other way
When you employees
Are victims of assault & battery

And then you said
“Nothing last forever”
You have made yourself
A market of accidents
A place of pain

DOG EATS PIG
OR
A TJ TAIL

Ham & beacon are delicious!
Said the little dog
Wearing the
The funky sombrero
He said the swine was
Helping a little mouse
With car theft
The pooch said
He didn’t eat them because
The pig & mouse
Were thieves
He said it was
Because he was hungry
And now he has
A taste for them
Some sort of
An addiction
And the funny thing
Is that now
He’s got
A K9 gig
And every time
He sees all those hogs
He gets the munchies

NIGHT

Just like rich children
Wanting to belong
Wanting to hug their poor offspring
Hating & loving each other
Both being afraid
But what they really want
Is to kiss
1 another

Just to be friends because
They want to belong
Eat & drink & be marry just like
Solomon advices everyone to do so

What a mistake is not to be friends
That’s why this electronic beat
Rushing from within the speakers
Perseveres in transcendental fellowship
And the action of embarking into
A marvelous opening of the eye

With exquisite glances of remembrance
Because forgetfulness
Becomes a disposable joy
Just like walking on
The line of patience
Waiting for nothing in particular

Peculiar liquid moments
I am talking about when
Rural becomes beautiful
For non other reason than
The simplicity of the will

Inviting more eyes to
Join the miracle of discovery
Because here
Summer never ends
Like camping on seldom
And scattered stars

Interesting looking
Oriental letters
Or whatever has that
Eastern tang
That you can eat
Or drink or inhale
In the most conservative
Moves and steps
And swing with
All that feeling

After all this is
A decision for celebration
It doesn’t matter
If the circumstances
Are like 2 baby twins
Eating chocolate
And greetings are inside
An envelope with
Wet wishes

It is okay
If sensuality resides
In feminine feet
And then hides
Inside the mysteries
Of the girl’s stomach
Because everyday
Is your birthday

ANTIDOTE

The bright blue eyes
Yes that customer

He said to me
As I sat on the chair:

“This is the most sensible thing
I have ever seen”

I could only smile
Then he went on:

“I used to do this type of work
When I was little”

He was the nicest guy
And all of the sudden
I did not feel down anymore
Since I was
Written up