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i like standing on rainy city corners
they are as busy as my thoughts
drops from the above
spill like falling neurons
connecting all five senses
to the brain that is my sky
i miss taking the bus
and my affinity for public spaces
even though i am shy
and--I miss walking without commitments
it is a truth in which a lie
For my Tia Luisa. Thank you for teaching me how to laugh, dance, and dream. Rest in peace
Dreams shrink with age and our aging bodies
Disappointment underlines the expectation of
Deprivation withholds participation from true
Death in shallow waters and the stream of
Downfall isn’t anything without the rise of
Dawn sprouts life on days we don’t
Detestation dwindles when our first choice is

For mike
Lucky penny on the floor
Thinks he’ll never be much more
Sound bytes and coffee
Tourist Fridays have him conscious
So many to shine for

Lucky penny on the floor
Thinks he’ll never be much more
With the face of Abe
And the might of bronze
Remembering his worth in dollars

No other coins deemed lucky
Or lived with such a worthy president
Still, the past is just a precedent
Floor penny, Starbucks, 48th & 6th ave, 4/18/16 nyc
Looking to tell a story in which you’re already in
Spinning with clouds foreshadowing downpour
All in the while the sky is fire red

Resting on steps of paved metaphors

Searching for magic or the ghost of,
As words drift in the breeze,
The crowd unimportant, secondary sounds too

“But we recycle our lines and dig through the plot.”

“—Swallow someone else’s lies.”

My own thoughts interrupted

“I stand here unnoticed appearing dull and lifeless...blush when I’m green, brittle without leaves—but I am more than what I appear to be.”

“A resting place for wings and twigs ...I’m rooted, but every prime of spring, I fly.”

“Wind and rain are friends, although seasonal deaths, snow says hello, and through the freeze it pleases.”

“I represent life and death, just as you do.”

—so what’s the point?

“That’s your story.”

City tree
Haven’t touched words in a while because I’ll never see you again
You who once agreed with god really just being everywhere and everything
Still, you prayed and prayed for me
The natural sufferer
True to the prophecy

Love is the reason religion still exists
Faith from the old world
With the good of the new
You who taught me to listen
Simply because the earth speaks
I cherish every memory

No one’s ever worked harder to receive less
All-knowing you laughed at your own fate
Sometimes luck skips a generation
You saved it all for me

Cry for someone while they’re breathing
While they can feel the sadness from the void they’d leave in you
And be joyful once they rest
For they are everywhere and everything
Dedicated to Luz Dary Montoya Chica, my hero.
The yearn for self-fulfillment is really just a void that death fills
I don’t believe in god but I drink spirits
There’s a pulling feeling in the air
It tells a story beyond our own despair
True existence projected in the sun
Reflected on the moon
Spilled upon the mountains
Caressed by fog and morning dew
I float and hover
Beneath me is no one
Above me is everything
I am the ghost of gloom and doom
Yet to me, this is beautiful.
Shrinking as I wait for my shrink
Minuscule in appearance
Skyscrapers overshadow
Obsolete rock with tiny feet
Plants feed off the heat from nearby concrete
Each brick cemented by century
Droplet from the sky is opposite
Magnifies true irrelevance
Cross legged at the cross walk
Visitor at the cross road
Flickering light bulb thrives in day
At night it diminishes
At night it's just a fade
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