I am very still.

My chest barely moves with each breath.

I am calm. I am warm.

Maybe it's because 

My skin's the color of the 

beach floors their ancestors conquered

So familiar to be taken

I don’t delete those numbers although

they’re dead, I’ve been told,

those persons, not numbers.  

they said the good girl knows how to close her mouth


she always pretends to ignore seeing revolutions in the north


or in the south


the good girl used to crawl


she must hide the bright side of her soul


-the list goes on, on and on, names and dates i've forgotten,

but were an intense vivid and you-always-think-it-will-be-there in deep indigo, mirrors, the tiny magic stage--

maybe, maybe--like the song says, 'some other spring'-- for the ghosts, and onwards, 'for the living--

Seria
Como buscar una parte de ti mismo.
Mirate en un espejo y vete a ti mismo

Mira las caracteristicas de tu rostro
Mira el ser detrás de esos ojos

Todas tus facciones
Presta atención
El tipo de nariz que tienes
El arqueado de tus cejas
El contorno de pómulos y boca.

Beach, bright water, moonstreaked clouds

A triadic configuration of the summer night

Standing on the cliff above the beach

Since you’ve  been gone...

I am left here all alone, with no one to talk to on the phone

With only the overcoat to keep me warm

No matter what surrounded them and
what the blizzard wailed at the sand,
that their shepherd’s den was close, nor
that they had no place else anywhere:

Fought to escape my own existence

I drifted in the void of empty promises

Left my soul in the catacombs of my mind

My heart aches

It breaks and breaks

My thoughts run at the speed of light

My head hurts from pure fright

If history repeats itself then the story of conquering Hernan Cortes is on the shelf while pol, Joe Crowley‘s hunkering down. She’d said she wouldn’t back the candidate if she should entertain defeat, but campaigned like a potentate, as capable as she seemed sweet.

to set a trap

catch air

7pm in April

and i hate everything

I remember when we woke together in the ancient streets of Spain

I remember I felt a strong shiver which could heal any pain

when the fantastic windows whispered in my ears  " hello "

I couldn't dare to reply

I thought that voice came from my fellow

so I began to spy

You can see/feel/experience this work by LaMont Hamilton at The Drawing Center in SoHo.

How do you tread on a Tiger’s tail ?

Baby.. we are  jealous, her exciting voice and outcry

Gave us new understandings for sharp color, real color

"Heylo hello hey hi hiya my love"

I had a Brother once

And maybe I lost him

In Hallways of your Soul

XYK repeating, replicating the shattered bits of his refracted nullity, the shadow of his elemental hatred sombresaulting up from the endless slurry of his hatchery, where he fluffs the nearly hairless balls of his projective fantasies, cross breeds a sickly effluent with it's cousins, lies and slander, takes the broken offspring of this noxious union and remates it

As an African child

I crawled on mama arm

Searching for an imaginary house

Which bear me with a fancy view

Of the coming clouds upon my head

She was made of water

And in and out of water

Wanting, wishing, withering

What would it be like to edit down

a poem into its brittle bones

down to the last ash

on a burning log

down to thin veins

on a frozen leaf

twigs on an icy night

shivering in the dark gray

solstice sky

down to breath

or the last

kiss                      

before sleep?

red rays of the unknown sun came down to my new window
warmly shiver touched me, made me laugh as a fresh baby
I decided to think about the source of these unknown rays
but, suddenly a kind of musical sound covered my ears
the sound did not seem like any earthen sound I ever heard 
it was a mix of waves dancers and creation of colorful bird
it was like a smell of honey and the secrets of gold

I want to carry in my womb

The bodies of the dead women

Killed by the dictatorship

My womb

Full of old pictures with their serrated sides

Full of vaporous language

Full of gardens in child’s mind

My womb will grow like a giant piñata

So full of communists

And you'll fear them all

for J.D. Rage

I pick up a Xeroxed flyer
for a show by someone I know slightly.
Her photo shows her in leather, chains, sunglasses,
with a mass of black hair.
And I think, This is where
I want to take a woman for a date.