The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

Sheltered
    In her kiss
I unambiguously
shut
    My eyes
And sanction
       love
To commend
   My heart

Ayer probé el humo
                            era DENSO
era ESPESO

Ayer caminaba por la avenida
                                    paso un autobús
era GRANDE
                           gritaba HUMO
Era denso, era espeso, era gris.

Entro en mi cuerpo, escupí lamentos,
camine a la tienda
y estaba allí
con un par de cigarrillos y unos jeans

Era LINDA
                            deslumbraba VIDA
buscaba FUEGO

                                                                                           y le sonreí...

Old movie stars have come and gone
Those films were there for everyone
Despite the passing of those times
Those talking pictures will always shine.

Those talking pictures have all come back
With ghosts of film stars from the past
They are still alive within our minds
Those talking pictures we rewind.

When looking at those bye gone days
Those talking pictures will always stay
The golden oldies that we all can see.
Are there and they will always be.

Those talking pictures stand the test of time
Deep within our hearts and minds
Those movie stars have come and gone
But those talking pictures will still live.