He lives in a time of plague.

The tag team of cholera and dedication killed his father, for all Dr. Juvenal Urbino knows, his father was faithful to both work and love.

The good doctor knew from an early age that his work would be his love, and from a slightly less tender age he discovered that his love of flesh and the body ran deeper than mere science could take him.

He met Fermina Daza in the doorway between clinical curiosity and obsession over her doe’s gait, and as he walked through his heart made room for a new kind of dedication.

He thought his devotion would be equally as precise as his practice.

Fifteen or so years of marriage, between years in Paris they bled together like a Van Gogh after a rainshower, the intricacies of their companionship were jointly held in a contractual cradle, but neither of them felt obligated.

Dr. Urbino was before my time, but my story will know the life of Carlos Mucharraz, Pre-Med major, they both dedicate themselves to their love. I’ve never seen her, but I can imagine Carlos likens her gait to that of a doe. He fawns over her from 17 hours away, for nearly a year.

Like a Texas dust devil, he sends his love through the air to Minneapolis to brighten her phone screen and her day.

They’ve only ever spent time together twice.

I’d like to think of his devotion like a boulder, immovable, but twisters slither across prairies as wicked winds push them towards seas of lust, but I’d like to think his love flew above turbulent skies.

I thought Dr. Urbino as a rock.

He must have thought of his fidelity as a disease. His father died fighting cholera, and Urbino would not let his affliction of faithfulness **** him. He thought himself ill, and the mantra of his practice taught him one thing only: cure.

In a slum of San Juan de la Cienaga, pants around his ankles, holding a mulatto girl’s legs around his waist, he crumbled like stale bread as he plunged himself into infidelity.

This man of granite broke and fragmented, his sin etched a crooked cobweb of fractures into his back, I wonder if the beads of sweat stung his spine, or dulled the pain.

But maybe I should put my faith in dust devils.

Humans may be able to shatter the hardest stone, but no one commands the sky, for it straddles North and South, East and West, Fort Worth and Minneapolis.

remember when we were best friends? and every time you created a rainshower i was always there as the sun to clear up the puddles. remember when we would run our mouths like motor boats but there was always something to talk about. remember when we would laugh until we developed six packs and our lungs gave up remember when we were eachothers diaries remember when we were best friends?

remember on the first day of high school we were eachothers solid rocks and behind eachother every step of the way; and remember the second year when we didnt call. remember when i was there when you stole that snickers but i sealed my mouth as shut as an antique chest and the secret was lost in my secret garden never to be spoken of again. remember when those girls we saw as caddy and were the meaning of mean girls? we always said we would never transform into them. remember when you changed your hair masked your face and caged your feelings to become one of those plastic barbies? remember when you stabbed her in the back and kicked dirt in her face for initiation and left her in the middle of hallway and you flipped your hair up in the uniformed step away..with the mean girls. Honey you were the lindsay lohan of that clique-not the leader but the caboose of that train. you were to blinded by the shiny fame that dangled in your face.

remember when karma came back and bit you in the ***? remember the rainshower you created in result of being dropped and kicked to the side, in result of being that doll left on the shelf as result of being that tissue that was blown and thrown away as if you meant nothing remember that?

you finally remembered how i used to be you sun to clear up those puddles and make you warm again but now, you will ALWAYS remember, the way you used up my sun rays and threw me out when finished, the way you ran over my feet in order to get in that line the way you made me my spine just a little bit stronger with the tears that watered my esteem.

but what goes around comes around. im no longer your sunshine, but im now the darkness that lurks, that nothingness, i have no more rays of sunshine to warm you up and pick you up,
for what goes around comes around
i bet you will always remember that.

I miss you
Like a thunder in the night
I miss you
those moments when you hugs me tight

I miss you
Like the desert missed the rain
I miss you
and its driving me insane

I miss you
like the bees miss the flower
i miss you
like a summer needs a rainshower

I miss you
like i never did before
i miss you
and it hurts even more

i miss you
and its like a needle in my heart
i miss you
and its tearin me apart..

sometimes, i just want healthy relationships
                              and even though they might look crazy
~us waking up ****** and taking 10 am trips to the grocery store
to buy a bottle of wine and some flowers
for a trip to the park downtown
                   where we'll play our version of rugby while
the sun hits the color of your eyes just right
and the perfect song turns on, maybe led zeppelin
           and we'll run like children through a sudden rainshower
all the 1.5 miles to the borrowed car, with cassette records
of our mixtapes to each other when we first hit it off
all strewn across the console,
                 toweling each other off and saying **** it
driving ******* in rain spattered shorts home to our flat
blasting music from stupid-loud speakers,
         cooking souped-up ramen noodles with fancy appetizers
before we leave the stove on because we were too busy kissing
or feeding the dogs the treats we bought at 10 am
      while we swallow our wine with i love yous
and yes this is a healthy relationship
one where you don't expect anything but life from me
                     and me life from you
where there ain't nothin' but lovin' and real **** between us.

if it were left up to me
this whole poem could be worshiping
the shiny puddle of silver light the stars stained
onto your heaving collarbone when
we made love & connected souls first
under the third eye pyramid tapestry then
on a rough bed of flat canyon orange dirt
in summertime georgia

but it's not & can't ever be
because people don't know you
like i do for example they aren't aware
that you dance with a summer breeze
like the lighthearted yellow butterfly
i can never catch in a net or
that you're the reason
i became a writer to begin with

they probably aren't prone
to remember the october morning
you found me huddled just before dawn
in a half-lit safeway parking lot
burning my clothes & yellow wooden pencils for fuel
chewing the pink bubblegum erasers or when
you said i have a beautiful pristine voice &
i melted giddy into your wet violet
hair as the wind whipped it
i was around nine & in the third grade
so i sat patiently crosslegged & camouflaged
a lizard with my tongue out savoring
that moment like an unexpected
rainshower in the pre-puberty desert
listening to the rhythms of your salty blood
pump waves of breath out of your lungs

& they still don't know about
later on when i was walking home
shoulder bones barreled against the long fog
you picked me up again in the
immaculate rust wagon your brother left the keys in
you bought me firewood at a gas station got me
happy drunk on hot kisses & so paranoid ******
listening to thin lizzy on tape in your garage
you laughed hyena hard
when i asked you to marry me
that starless purple night on your daddy's farm
& so did he but he never really said no
& neither did your eyes they just glistened
like they were floating in olive oil as
you ascended the stairs to your bedroom alone
covered in magic enormous light

Round the path these wraiths walk
paced to keep the gears turning
save for a few this is Lady Justice
her arms holding even the smallest souls
sounds of buzzing and locks clanking
dominate above the incessant chatter
backyard handshakes hidden from prying eyes
dogged deals shaping these shatter lives
and the word of the day is always "waiting"
taking one last look at the hands of time
before that dreaded voice bellows through
then its the cold slap of flash on cement
these veal on twenty three hour lockdown
spinning their tales these jailbird tailors
lying to each other for stolen smiles
each in a different stage of the same life
bathing in the omnipresent light of fireflys
dreaming of a wisp of smoke or a hand stroke
whichever waits for them on the outside
they'd believe in the patience of the buddha
if religion were on their tapered tongues
as it is there's always faces against the glass
eyes peeled to savor the brief passing drama
apathetic to the other prison dog's plight
drooling for the next passing hour
as they count them like sheep herding sleep
cleansing their conscience in the communal rainshower
everyone praying for the wings of freedom
to fly them from these sullen gates
the others still suspended in solitude
letting one man tell them when to eat and wake
their voices becoming mere whispers of wind
poets robbed of their rhymes and words
grown accustomed to breathing processed air
measuring their time in months, weeks, and years
locked away with the shadow of their fears

When my body can't take it anymore
I go into the closet- not to pray, but to worship;
I kiss the complacent coat hangers there, orderly on their metallic racks,
My lips on smooth plastic; eyes closed,
All senses centered on my mouth;
Enraptured, I can't see any colors at all..

The surface doesn't soften, as I beat out my lips
Against the mild anvil; altar of pain, loving the more distant you
Somewhere on a compass that the heart knows best;
This pain is merely a devotional exercise, to take my mind
Off the fact that the hangers can't actually kiss me back.

The wool blazer has your blue eyes;
The polo shirt has some, not all, of your softness.
The shoes delicately waft a heavy, calming manly odor of leather.
The weight of the clothing leans back against me, sighing
And muffles most of my cries and exclamations

While I sway, to their soapy limerance of fabric softener and dust.
If I push far enough into them, they enclose me all around
Just like a lover's firm grasp, of aching seams and  straining stitches,
Loving me soundlessly, from many directions at once.

To silent, undanced waltzes, we hang together, in furtive salute;
For they are not free, and neither am I;
But we can dream together, in the small cottony, worsted room,
For we are old friends, we have known both sunshine and rainshower together

And long, undying afternoons, of tears and questioning why.
They have known many of my beloved's names,
And I in turn have seen them both inside and out, plush and threadbare.
We have no secrets any longer; I know their every scar by heart
As well as they know mine:
I can never discard even one of their kind,
I have to keep them closer than skin.

Vents of pleasure choke my lips
From that awakening hour
Dewdrops alight on my lone hips
In a gentle, warm rainshower.

They’re all around us, affecting our lives in unseen ways, causing worry, hesitation, confusion, anxiety, avoidance.

They bring us to our knees.

Fears control us in ways we never realize, unacknowledged and more powerful because of their unknown workings.

Fears stop us from following our dreams, from taking risks, from pursuing love, from seeking adventure, from speaking in public, from going into the unknown, from starting a new venture, from reveling in discomfort. We procrastinate, overeat, find distractions, because of fear. We are seized with constant worry, from fear.

And yet, these fears are just clouds.

They float into our field of vision, unbidden and unwanted, like a dark stormy cloud. We get caught in the rainshower and thunder, and feel that this is our entire world. We immerse ourselves in this cloud, as if there’s nothing outside of it and it will never go away.

But the cloud will pass.

The cloud floats away, like anything else. It’s nothing to run from. It’s just a passing cloud.

So watch the cloud of fear arise, acknowledge it, and watch it float away, like any other thought. Enjoy the chill of the shadow and the wind as it passes over you.

Then step into the sunshine of the present moment, beautiful and joyous now that the cloud has passed.

In each moment, we are OK. Even when fear arises, we are OK. Learn to trust in this OK-ness, the goodness of the present moment, the enough-ness of you, right now.

See the fear pass, and see that you’re still OK.

Once you develop this skill of watching the fear pass, and trusting in your OK-ness and enough-ness, you are equipped to deal with life, and get up off your knees.

it didn't hit me in full force
like an unexpected rainshower
on the very day i decided
against bringing an umbrella

but it was in ice cream dripping
on hands, in cumulus clouds
on a sky painted pink and purple
just before the sun kissed our
skins goodbye, in whistles of wheels
against warm pavements and
conversations that holds so much
warmth defrosting winter hearts, in
little kids still enjoying their childhood,
in discovering new ways to love
the people i hold dearest, in breathing,
in living, in falling in love with life

and i didn't realize
how happy and contented
i really was at this very moment
until i saw the sun had set, all children
went home and my friends and i
had long finished our frozen treats
but i was still
enjoying every second

eons of tears are streaming down her face
a rainshower of the past and forgotten
exploding into a waterfall
she doesn't know why the storm came now
but she knows that she's got no reason for it
and it makes the thunder grow louder

I wish that I
Could know,
If I'm on your mind
Like sunflowers
Follow the warmth
Across the sky,
I yearn
For you
Until the next
Rainshower
Comes along,
In a parched
Desert plain,
You are
The bluest
Moon among
The stars
That sparkle,
Thoughts that rise
Every time
You take a breath,
A mirage
On the horizon
You are
My oasis...

APAD2020 - 003

Within the black,
Drowned by yesterday,
You'll find the withered remains,
Of what was once a champion of hope

When the Sun shines,
Even the rain tends to wear a pleasant perfume
Deceiving you long enough
For the tendrils of hell
To break through the gates

You watch as the clouds grow ever darker
Ever denser
The rain turns acid
Your plans' warm smiles
Turn into cackles that blow your resolve away

Why,
Why is it always you?
The Sun shrugs lazily as it strolls off
A rainshower may do you good
It may destroy the stains that follow you

Destruction is an ally
A powerful one at that
It empowers and it sustains
And when you look away
Finally sensing survival
It rips out your life support

What is this?
A black robe ordained with knives?
Now nobody can touch you
Get near you
You've never been looked up to before
Look how wide the cackle is now
Look,
They fear you


Within the black,
Drowned by yesterday,
You'll find the withered remains,
Of what was once a champion of hope