Panamanian myth woman-was it true?
They left you hanging there just for the view?
And you kissed an imp for the sake of emotion,
But, he cursed you instead with his peoples’ potions,
Built you a rose-bed with a hole so you’d fall through?

Panamanian myth woman-tell me things as you recall,
Did he sing you to sleep and turn you into a doll?
Were you bleeding strong when they bit you to bits?
Did you ever suspect his love was counterfeit,
Or did your faith die with their psalms and alcohol?

Panamanian myth woman-from where did you rise?
They said from the West, where a cat gave you its eyes,
And when the men first pinched your cheeks,
You scratched and gave the sharpest shriek,
So loud, even the moon was traumatized.

Panamanian myth woman-did it hurt?
Their hands yanking at the seams of your skirt?
The way they fooled you was as old as mankind,
A simple trick of the heart and mind,
In the end, you crawled for hours in the dirt.

Panamanian myth woman-what did you take?
For you left the land barren and full of snakes.
And all their men still curse your story,
Of how they maimed your status and glory,
Your body, suspended at their village gate.

Panamanian myth woman-is that true?
They left you hanging there just for the view?
But others say you flew on West,
And became the muse for a hero’s quest,
And he built you a tower nothing could break through.

I continue to be amused &
Captivated by Gabriel García Márquez,
His Love in the Time of Cholera,
Captivating me still.
His simple use of the name
“Bolívar,” por ejemplo.
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There is something uniquely Latin
About life in Latin America,
Once again, stating the obvious
For all the media-slain retards
Hovering around me.
Their never-ending enthrallment
With Strong Men,
Particularly when strength is
A measure of one’s honor,
Hizzoner,
Your honor,
To wit: Honor Killings.
In practice, a sober demonstration
Of the theory as it is practiced.
Americans—with swarthy exceptions—
Do unfavorably view most of us who
Can trace our ancestry to Southern Europe.
“Southern European,”
Itself a vicious racial slur,
And remains so north of Eboli,
No surprise that Christ stopped there,
According to Carlo Levi, writing off the
Il Mezzogiorno, beyond redemption.
Southern European:
Smug words you make them eat,
Throwing Greco-Roman Civilization
Up into their faces.
Athens & Rome--
Epitomes of culture and class--
Patricians, of course, yet
Skifoso bragging rights for all those
***** scratched plebeians of the mob.
But I digress.

Strongman Latino-Americano.
Some Bolívar, some José Martí.
Why not some Fidel?
¿Por Que No?
Tu compadre, Gabo--
Tu Generalissimo Cubano.
How could you miss, Gabo?
Castro lobbying for you, twisting the
Surreal & squirrely qualms
Of Nobel Prize Nabobs.
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You owe that bearded strong man, Gabo.
Fidel Castro: Maximum Leader to be sure--
Like Omar Torrijos & Noriega--
Panamanian Reds,
Tasmanian Devils!
And Sonny Barger –
Dubbed Maximum Leader,
By Hunter S. Thompson's Hell's Angels:
(The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs RetroBites: Hunter S. Thompson & Hell's Angels (1967) - YouTube ► 6:21► 6:21 www.youtube.com/watch?v=ccyu44rsaZo‎ Jul 7, 2010 - Uploaded by CBCtv Hunter S.Thompson defends his book against an irate Hell's Angels biker.)
Come Perón, come Hugo Chávez.
But, Hark-a-lark,
Let’s wait a sec
Lest we forget
Cristina Fernández de Kirchner,
One tough, Argentine *****,
Illustrating again for all men
The root of all machismo:
La Mujer!
The ***** that bore him;
Nurtured & nursed him.
****** & ****** him.
La Mujer!
(La mujer sin cabeza (2008) - IMDb www.imdb.com/title/ tt1221141/‎ Rating: 6.4/10 - ‎1,815 votes Directed by Lucrecia Martel. With María Onetto, Claudia Cantero, César Bordón, Daniel Genoud. After running into something with her car, Vero experiences a... I get 7 cents for each link, each hit, making poetry pay for once, the savvy poet, a marketer finally figuring out how to avoid death in the gutter, a death penniless, diseased, babbling and insane.)
Yes, the woman,
The woman, who loved him,
That widow who buried him.
The woman—at any particular
Time of life, in his life—
The woman who just happened to be there;
Was just hanging around
During that brief, emphatic,
Conversation lull.
Genesis got it wrong:
Adam was a stiff rib of Eve,
Made from sterner stuff,
A creation conceived in torture,
Reared in disequilibrium.

Women create the men they touch.
Strong women.

The window was open in the dream
In the house I built from all the perfect sentences
The things more worthy to worship
Than clothesline windstorms and
Curtain-rod jousts between
Closet clowns and the nights they hid from.
These stolen wings are an easy veil to wear.
Would you believe me if I told you I had seen a unicorn?


I left a prayer in the south of France
In a church I called upon to swallow a sinner
I went back for it
The day when forgiveness meant
Switching the soles of my boots and body
the room was filled with every person I ever wanted to meet
I pulled a snake out of my throat and let it slither down the aisle
This was never a confession


My father was a carpenter
He built pews for a chapel he could not enter
I can count the fingers on his right hand
With the fingers on my left
The aurora borealis in my leftover love said
“You were Marcel Ayme the day we decided
That he was better at beginnings than at endings”


Rachel took a rosary to her wrist
I caught her blood because my heart couldn’t pump fast enough
To satisfy the ones asking
We cannot be tied to this desert
I’m getting slow motion sickness on the speed train to someday
Somewhere along the way we stopped shoveling coal into these engines
Started using the bodies people left along the tracks
“it’s okay,” they say,
“We’re recycling.”


A Panamanian child born on neither side of the canal
Wants this holiday hate crime
To be something other than a compass rose riddle
I need a weather balloon catapult to launch my words into orbit
So they can work weightlessness to their advantage
There were never enough chairs.
Every person at the table sat alone.

This forced perspective spills arrows from my coronet
All the things meant to ornament justified distaste
Is the sky any more magnificent when you have a God to shove inside it?
Is the sea any more deep?
Is this body any more powerful if I believe it was made in the image of someone greater?
I can see so much more with my eyes open
My hands are open on every rooftop
I can catch every raindrop


This story is a work in progress
Someday this patchwork of scattered significance
Will become subject to the needle of retrospect
But for the moment I can but introspect
On a night that belongs to the words I cannot say
And to the person I cannot say them to.
I never again thought I would breathe golden.
Teach me to make blue of enslaved fortune.


Teach me how to cry in a world that will not feast upon my insecurity
I am learning to trust though I see only the shadow of the moon.
I am learning not to hate this inherited flesh
The unwoven threads that fail to shelter these shoulders
The guilt in my gait that I cannot seem to shake
The unwanted wit that tears at the seams of sobriety.
It’s amazing how many words you wrote in my genetic code that can carry just four letters.
I was never brave enough to break.
I have no merit for mercy

I awoke, my consciousness
still slowly coalescing from the astral plane.

In a cloud of dissipated thoughts and confusion, I retrieved my mug of icy black water medicine I had prepared for this occasion the night before.

The alluring smell of dark Panamanian roast began to pull the remainder of my consciousness into the waking realm.

Suddenly,
the mug was empty,
and I was fully aware.

The Cow

By the edge of the cliff where the grass is juicy
the cow tried to eat it all the last straw you can say
alas, it tipped over and fell into the sea
and since happened in Dover, it swam to Holland
and joined the Dutch cattle.
This was a good solution till the cow demanded
special privileges such as imported Dover grass,
when it didn't get it will, it swam back.
On the way across the channel, it was run over
by a Panamanian registered tank-ship.
Children had to go to school hungry no sausages
or milk for breakfast.
The ship, the farmer (not setting up a fence) and
the Dutch got the blame, this wouldn't have happened
if we had let, the cow gets its own way.

I'm looking to rent the trailer in my backyard to: felons, fugitives, the mentally deranged (especially the senile), cripples (including amputees), war veterans, dope fiends, communists, alcoholics, pornographers, abortionists, arsonists, queers, *******, aliens, gangsters, con men, parolees, mobsters & murderers. ["Senator" John Juan McCain is not a traitor to the U.S. He's a Panamanian patriot!]
   Either this pizza is bland or my tongue's not working. A benign mass is the abandoned home of a malignant clutch of diseased cells. Psychology (the study of the mind) is a false science as it links the symptoms of mental illness with factors familial, hereditary and environmental. Delusions & hallucinations are caused by a niacin-deficient thalamus (the switchboard of the brain). A thalamus so deprived will put a walking/talking man into a dream state.