ave desesperada


lentamente se arrastra
sobre el concreto
mal de nuestro tiempo

no se arrastra porque esté herida
ni está muerta
el agua está hirviendo a su lado

el peligro es tan grande
que lo ignora
no alcanza a verlo

mi sangre también hierve
¿por qué no nos tenemos miedo?
es el mal de nuestros días

la indiferencia
nos gana de momento

es sólo un mar de concreto
imán de todos los males
sitio idea para un fin
para un comienzo

fosas


big holes in the tanker
as it approaches us
spectators with sanitized brains
older smiles
and foreign languages

foot on the brake
large metal opening
in the middle of the street

laughter is in the background
music in the forefront
the wind blows the chairs away

the bathroom opens
and a face of pain enters
sprinkling blood on the floor

spin


the wheels spin
face of rubber
dust devils
preparing the ground
planting wounds
in the soil

the ship rocks
from fence to fence
it navigates wagers
it lulls the captain to sleep

the clouds cry
the wind stops
and we move slowly
on a sea of accidents

children


the stairs are sharp
and the downfall
resembles a human cascade

the rocky mountains
an avalanche
the beating of the drums

rhythm with each step
broken drumsticks
accumulation of teardrops

laughter from strangers
joyful enemies

a night's show
just for children
who are learning to play together

treatment


the forces of nature
wind & light
moisture & sadness
stretch the lips
of pedestrians

and it looks like
they are about to brake

dilatation of life
opening of the birth-tunnel
to give access to death

veterinarian trick
to open the mouths of pets
out comes the cold
in goes the medicine

symbols


2 symbols
are better than one
because silence speaks louder than words

it brakes time
making unstoppable pictures
it changes everything
every single moment

it creates life
it makes death
it oils the wheels of commerce
with the lubricant of innocence

it brakes your teeth
it manufactures wisdom
in the most unforgettable way

black widow


i killed a spider
with the sole of my shoe

she was stricken
and my shoe was broken in

she climbing up the door
she the daughter
of the spider that bit me

i think i know where the mother is

poison is a cruel death
a crushing death might be too humane

a tiny black widow
inexperienced & traveling
on aluminum
that alone should have kill her

adios


metal shreds in the air
sharper than samurai swords
cutting oxygen
in the heavens
and the most beautiful face
in the clouds
the face of the mother of god
time to pray
using your lungs
desire passing through
your nostrils
medicinal embraces
melancholic farewells
everybody know how to fly

ten


it was at sunset
fire touching salty water
when the plane
began to burn

going in circles
looking like a ufo

we follow it
with binoculars
it looked as if
its wings were on fire

clouds are lifted
from the ocean
forming mythological creatures
posing between heaven and air

she can hold your hand if you want to


the girl
walks eating the letters
on her blouse

listening to small imports
honking their compact horns

driving through red lights
stop signs that serve as her eyes
fish market glances
glazed finished stares

your wheel of fortune
is not fast enough
they better call the red cross

because when they lay there
on their blood
bearing the smell of liquid red
they will see a shimmer of light
reflecting on the whitest of teeth
between the lips
in the center of the smile
of the paramedic sitting
next to you

the van will move slowly
through the night
on wet streets
wailing your name
spitting it loudly
through its
public address system

i write poems


los federales cruise
the same streets i do

they have a brand new car
new uniforms
government health care plan
paid vacation
confiscated lives

we drive under the same haven
tread on the same pavement
burn the same gas
look at the same stop signs

they write tickets
i write poems
they wear bulletproof vests
i write poems
they carry pistols
i write poems

they are incidental bureaucrats
i am an incidental poet
workers of wrath
i write poems

cost


half your laughter seems like a good price
a fair price to indulge in

the cost to keep the machine moving
the parts screeching
the horns honking
the metal twisting

an orchestra of your defiance
playing so close to your ears
massaging your soul
with the music of your heart

patience is only for those
who want to remain alive
who want to keep breathing
smiling in the midst of
a pond of adversity

tongue


language sometimes
is only a tongue
nothing more

it is the way you move it
to bring some meaning
into the noise that it utters

there is something animalistic
about a moving tongue

tasting with it
feeling with it
wrestling with it

cow tongue
hiding inside a tortilla
under the cover of red salsa

bloody tongue
visited by angry fangs
bleeding red salt
painting pink gums
neighbors of crowns
of cavities made
by explosions of sugar

the greatest of all traitors
is the tongue
it betrays you
each and every time

dust


you can not see dust at night
you can feel it
you can breathe it

breathing dust
is the makeup of dread
metallic lipstick

the sound
of bending strings
used guitars crying

grooving to the tune of smiles
the music of darkness
a pickup truck going down the hill
a trail of dust dancing

water fragrance


the ground smells wet
humid & moist
it is soft
a mattress of soil

just like when the herd
advanced gracefully
through the morning midst

i held my rifle in my arms
looking through the crosshairs
switching between targets

drawing an 8
with the barrel
it gently rained
on all of us