a thousand ways
i imagined how i'd tell you
underneath the covers spoken softly
offhandedly on the roof with the stars as witness
swimming in the lake with my courage warmed by sand
through a letter i've spent weeks pouring over
a thousand ways i've imagined
a thousand dreams i've let myself have
dreams locked in my head
because my heart is speechless in confusion
how can i explain to you
what i do not know myself
a thousand ways
but this was never one
a marginally redemptive micro biography
offhandedly ushered into this reverie
by Ellipsis the muse of all highway roundabouts
my first impressions at age minus 20 minutes
stuck in the birth canal of a woman
whose deeper psychological structures
think she is withholding permission
her screaming was possibly misplaced
since dying was only seemingly inevitable
not knowing what a scream is
I am struck by the echo in the delivery room
which gives me my first indication
of a space that is filled with something other
myself presently possessing nothing other
only a great body-long dimensionless squeezing
amplified by the gentle tug
of my deliveryman's forceps
though possibly not so gentle
since to this day I am left with
dents and ripples upon my peanut head
which would constitute a turgid prose novel
for any Nazi phrenologist worth his calipers
apparently a mighty heave ho
and some cheer leading by the hovering nurses
released her death grip sufficient to the task
of birthing another potential carrier of civilization
into the world of sequence and insanity
I suppose all that future grunting
kinda got its start right here
You fling words
with the same concern
as skimming stones
offhandedly
and
unenlightened
not once
recognizing
the escalating consequences
upon the delicate ecosystems
of the human psyche
Amor, you allude like a cloud
To something great
Your name, a promise of Jerusalem
Your exclusive mouth, like water
on my dry lips and deeply vacant chest…
I’ve never touched a cloud
Nor known the inevitable fog
Of falling into you
But now that I know…
You’re not even Tel Aviv to me
Nor San Juan, nor Bayamon
You’re a makeshift castle
A colonizer
Pressing your smooth arms
Tight around my shrugging native heart
At the chance
I offered my hair, my amber perfume
I made my eyes a place to bathe
Your obviously filthy feet
Offhandedly, you spoke of the sea
But all I see- is violence in your city
You spoke of passion as though
It’s synonymous with love
But I see fatherless children
You’re not that man who saves
But the tide which takes me away…
A convincing title
A bait and switch
A hook for virgin lips
And now I’m a bud among weeds
That are due to be cut down
You are among me
Take your shot now
Since I know you shoot me down
Leave me alone, cabron-
You always leave me wanting
And I’m not fighting anymore
I’m dancing on the shore, Puerto Rico
This is my story, here
And la isla sets me free
Such cowardice. Come out and show your face!
How dare you hide behind that desert shrub.
Because of you, I’m in this barren place,
a parched and burned-up victim of your snub.
You scattered rocks and prickly pear about
to set the stage; then added atmosphere;
offhandedly subjected me to drought.
Now vultures seeking carrion are near.
So I must draw you out from whence you hide
lest down they swoop to gouge my dwindling mind.
To let you go would be my suicide.
I know which bush you’re cowering behind.
My quill is aimed at you. Now change the scene.
Oh, Villain Muse, repaint this wasteland green!
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