Thursday, September 06, 2007

Kitchen aid

A slightly melted ice cream cake
sits on the kitchen floor
beneath the table
beside the fallen chair
and the hanging child.

It sits outside the dog's mouth.
Everything we get to see
has been outside
the obedient dog's mouth
for three and a half days.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Ode to Ringo

Who called you up?
Who mistook you for a musician?
Who told you you could play the drums?
Could you have been a soloist?
A regular Bob Dylan?
Could you have written something?
or where you just happy to be there?

My dear man, I will tell you what you've done.
you made friends
and they where happy you where there
you made them proud to be your friends
Beautiful man, the human condition and the meaning of life are yours to take, enjoy.

W.C.W.

Sueño con William Carlos Williams
en su consultorio me dice que duerma
en su poesía que despierte.

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Shadows

The man forbade me to go out
He says I'm sick, not allowed
to get out of bed either.
I keep staring at the insignificant shadows in my room.

That's the word he uses
when he talks about me.
I think I know what it means

Shadows are insignificant in thickness
they don't exist in the air
they just cover the surface of things;
the grass, the street, the earth.
Ice creams dipped in chocolate.

Night is the biggest shadow I know.
The man says I'm scared to death of the night
but I know it's just a shadow
lying on the surface of things.

I know I'm right because
I can see the stars.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Confession (a poem)

He’s been walking for hours
selling bibles to hotel managers
up in Cabarete
he had seen a movie once
a little girl and her father sold bibles
with names on the cover
in-scripted in gold
women’s names
who’s husbands just died
“What do you mean he’s dead?
he just ordered this last week”
he remembered the women's faces
as they read their shiny names
Poetry.
Dusk was coming
not a bible had been sold
Holy words can be a burden to a weak man
he thought
wishing he had a daughter
a son, a dog.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

100 Meters

It seems rotten
the way you grab a notebook
write into it then get another.
somehow you never finish

what's funny is your determination
a marathon runner giving it all on the first hundred meters
as if time would go back to the previous race
15 minutes ago
you'd come in first, yes...

but lets face it
no one is judging
there's not a single eye on the hundred meter mark
you have to face it, kid
nobody gets a prize
and nobody ever gets to win.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Duarte

Chofer déjeme aqui, con ese lenguemime no me va asutá, que no le vua da na o se para o me jondeo, la que ta condená e la inteligencia suya. Me toy asando coño, que ya yo no aguanto eta vaina. Uté sabe lo quejeso media hora eperando pa que ete maldito animal no se quiera pará y amenazando a uno dique poque uno no le quiere pagá poque ta metío en el infierno ete con un bajo a ga que se te salen lo miao y ete mojón na de parase y yo loco por apeame y el vidrio que ni manigueta con un graserío como si le hubieran untao un picapollo, que no se ve ni pa fuera. Coje tapón ahi, vayan saliendo de aquel lao que me quedo. Coñaso coja su maldito cuarto miserioso y salga a abrí la maldita puerta... seguro e niño...seguro e niño, y utede barsa e borrego que ni se quejan ni na no son ma que una partía de turita en su propia esitencia. Andan con la esitencia arremangá pa no ensuciase la culpa. Sigan vociando ahí que le vua mandá do pedrá como do flore:
Fua, coño, fua.

Horses

I saw two sleeping horses
lying beside each other
mother and son
her neck caressed his
wind on the soft green grass
she raised to a brushing sound
the small deep wound
on his still white neck
looked like a rose to me.

I'm Cummings

tail lights
brake
rear
flood
ninety
view
one hundred
wheel
cra-
(death)
shh

Dear Lady:

The less you speak in this solemn night
the more i'd be willing to caress your idiocy.

Poema

Down in the fall of winter
I found an inscription
that read:
"Do not disturb the rabbits
as they are sleeping
and copulating above."