Walking through the perfumed garden
All the flowers were vociferous
Spreading their happiness
With the intense aroma that pours out
Potent cocktail carried by the wind
Tugging at my heart
To come back every day for a stroll
Perfumed garden allures me
Their fragrance has so much enthusiasm

and the water that
fell from the skies
drowned the moon
cutting it in half
shooting it to Earth
and no one panicked
and no one cared-
the slice of the moon
lacerated the blues
and browns sending
one half forward
the other half back
and no one seemed to mind
and no one was alarmed-
you were on one side
and i was on the other
while you moved forward
and i jumped back.
eventually one of us
will be engulfed by
a black hole
and spat out on the
other end of time
and we’ll never know
what we missed
but the people don’t care and
they don’t seem to mind

the memory of his large, thin hand on my back brought me to the

ghost of his breath entering my mouth...

these realities kick start my heart so i roll out of bed.

longing is unsettled skin and a crossed leg that won't stop hopping.

looking for familiarity in different hands, different *****...

hoping to feel that same flame lick up my thighs.

searching for green in the bluest of eyes~

The moon will get more blurred, not less

and more and more i'll look in vain
for edges
and reasons

old errors lose their lines and shapes

leave flashes, not whole cycles
there are peaks
and troughs

i see how all is blending thick

mixing, slurring, soup-of-lifeing
is it done yet?
is it right?

i stir, i eat, i look, i sleep

i dream of moons that fill the sky
with brightness
with courage

it was suggested
that there be no nexus
between texas and your pal-
omino - tagging the alamo, **?

en el barrio, yo(u)-
and your gringa  homecoming
queen in tight-assed jeans
-running with ms-13?

-playing twister with your hipster
sisters misters smith & wesson
oiled up and and ready to go
- new mexico?

i found you in tres piedras
at a place called ortega's
eating huevos rancheros
- shooting jose cuervo?

-muthafucka mara salvatruchas
in a red camaro and two bruthas
on a burro with bow and arrows
-stole your palomino?

-they shoot horses
don't they?

riding the black el camino
-on the blue mesa.

r ~ 9/30/14

whether hungry or satisfied
The face isn't tamed by a smile
Better to distinguish between
scary and ugly.
Being ugly isn't by choice
Being scary is personal

Those who prefer to roar than to talk
Their faces display their ages
And foreheads wrapped with wrinkles
soaked in sadness with pleasure
A true definition of misery.

A chemical addict
one who enjoys jik as juice.
pale faces with purple stretch marks
Good enough to keep enemies away
A face with a perfect answer "No"
swollen with grief though entitled
To no pension
The die hard of scenarios and
a culprit of death.