"zapatista" poems
twist around and call me deadly.
call me deadly, so I know enough
to cramp a headache away and steal
an evil from beyond a lifting pick-up
of a cell-phone denied service as it acted
strangely at the last house party it attended.
bereft of all wings, you did not glide... you
plummeted to the earth like a
question mark.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
ah Mimi
a Maio
'n' thier
Mazatlán post
card but
a Zapatista
de Chippas
si hombre
a pilgrim
this river
has crossed
in the
arms of
Creole but
women in
Porte Inglés
still swim
Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 4:38 PM UTC