Heartache
Let me say this one thing
you didn’t say it back
I think you know what I mean
you raced through the streets
All for a spot beneath the bridge
Back seat candlelight moment
Our lips when they met
made me forget about fear
made me believe in impossibility
oh, to hold your face in my hands
I wanted to mend all that’s
broken in you
To hold your hand and kiss
you again
and listen to Blink 182
in the backseat of your car
kicked off my shoes
only to lose myself
in your arms
Goodbye my
twin flame
may we meet
again
Icy burn
a shimmering burn
for the churn
it’s not right
to say hold tight
the last touch
a subtle flush
electric rush
crimson blush
upside down
is right side up
a small token
for vow broken
the otherness
an unknown bliss
ripple effects
hurried breaths
quaking chest
laid to rest
no inquiry
pride to bury
emerald music
tastes like magic
a hundred sleeps
a sigh of relief
final hour
new turns sour
all the flame
fell to icy shame
9/28
Could we bare witnesses as brothers and sisters
To the window of the abyss
I watch a silence sweep over the glass
Press my ear to the dirt
Glimpse the centipede march along
Tiny steps of a simple primitive life
Do not leave an unsightly blight
A master puppeteer shows off an
electric dragon with all bells and whistles
I watch trapped as a death head moth to a shiny flame.
A fall storm blankets a region
With record breaking rain
The waterslide washes away an entire community in one fail sweep
Putrid water flows through a mountainous region
Would a CAT 6 hurricane
push the dial of progress further?
Alas, Gale force winds don’t upend
sprawling mansions
A child clings to the idea of heat and storm as equalizer
While suits gather in castles to
deliberate in office chairs
While the sky is falling everywhere
Do we care enough
to stop the hush?
I watch the silence sweep
over the glass
A flower awakes and welcomes a fly’s proboscis which swallows
sweet nectar
A metamorphosis of forest and sea
Peels back the skin
Exposed Nature declares her win
Over the brilliant time of men.
Sand and Stone
The hourglass whispers where
one unfurls his wares
Shh shh, tick tock
Time to settle still
A stone may be a throne
but only for a little
The hourglass is fickle
Speeds up in sunshine
Slows down in winter
Shh shh, Tick tock
A mouse runs up the clock
A mansion for vermin
The hourglass sounds shimmer
Along a winding river
The bear grazes berry splendor
A skipping stone of stars
Shh shh, tick tock
A start from a jack-in-the-box
Shh shh, tick tock
Shh shh, tick tock
A conscience despot
Paves a grand palace
Which does one day
crumble and decay
to Humble sand in vain
Vignette
Wails in the spotlight
Date, weight, time—here I am world
Wonder in my eyes
Creature of the wind
Conch shells and fairy tails mend
Unkept promises
Disillusion
Student loan and car payment
Is this really it?
Finding peace of mind
Cultivating vibrant paths
Actualizing self
Final curtain call
Reminisce of multitudes
Winter white goodnight
Cruel Summer
Once upon a cruel summer
I found you, a shimmering
shell on the beach.
You locked eyes with me
From then on
We would walk and talk about nothing in particular
Kept dreams in my pocket I gradually turned out for you.
Those days of my youth
Are rose-colored by the lilt of your laugh
The crease of your dimpled cheek.
That stupid thing you said that had me bent over dying.
The day that you told me you’d love me forever.
Should have found a way to bottle that up.
It’d sell like funnel cakes at the fair and remind lovers of when finger brushed hair, tight embraces and sucking faces was the only care.
Cut to—the smell of your skin on mine.
A remnant of the night we shared.
A keepsake of how we breathed, chests heaved, bodies wreathed.
Do you still think about the way you twirled me in the rain?
My clothing clung to me and you said, “You’re so fucking pretty, it kills me.”
I kissed you so hard I tasted blood
but you just carried me away and we made love.
Once upon a cruel summer
Walking and talking about nothing in particular.
Those hot nights of my youth
I bet you miss them.
I know I still do.
An Ode to Living in the Ghetto
Neighbors come and go--
Kent was shot, case of mistaken identity
The Jacksons were evicted
Don't know and don't care if Jose
is an illegal immigrant.
I like the music he plays on holidays
Heavy mariachi, exulted gritos
Simmer in the sweaty air
The most savory notes of tannins
The sideways glances on peoples' faces
When I say I live in the hood
You?
Why, You don't look "the type"
But listen to this hype:
Sure--I've fed the vagrant or two
Who've come knockin' on my door
Yet, they know the only constant
is change
They know life--
it hangs in the balance
Especially when gunshots
rip roar
Just blocks away, down Pearl
Cats spit and linger on the front porch
The jowls beg and beg,
Until they are fed
or on the side of the road dead
They too remind me
We
Are
All
Tryin
To
Quell
Hunger
Trying to find some shelter
From the summer thunderstorm
And keep alive
And keep warm
And so, I say when you step
Out your front door
Are you reminded on the daily
What you're livin' for?
Well, I think we are
here in the dirty air
I for one know what for
I see how the passersby flex
Used to wonder and I don't any more
If you don't look like prey
Onlookers will let you go on your merry way
Kent, The Jacksons, the Mexicans across the street
Are a picture of our humanity,
Even in indignity
Who've loved, suffered and lost
Just like me.
Toilet paper
“The Romans would use a communial sponge which soaked in a pool of chemicals to clean their asses,” my husband, the history major said.
”The idea of using the same sponge as a number of people for cleaning my butt is just gross,” I called out.
My father-in-law, Tim, chimed in, “What about a bidet? We could buy one off Amazon.”
“I am not having cold water shoot up my ass, thank you,” Maritza lit.
”We can buy one with a heated setting and even a dryer, if you’re willing to spend more money,” I said.
“Hmm. I just don’t know how I feel about it. Let’s just cut back on how much toilet paper we’re using. My sister says she only uses two squares to wipe her ass. And then she folds it and uses the other side too!” Maritza declared.
We all made faces of disgust and laughed as we unloaded the groceries and put them away as usual. Except my mother-in-law, already the germaphobe before the pandemic, instructed her husband to throw away all the bags that entered the house and clean the surfaces where any bag lay upon the counter.
”I saw some doctor on the news explain how to properly bring in groceries safely,” she explained.
It struck me as an odd juxtaposition to be carrying on laughing and putting away groceries like we always did when it felt like the world had altered so suddenly with the outbreak of the coronavirus.
Toilet paper may seem an important resource, and sure, keeping yourself hygienic is an important part of wellness. However, it occured to me that my family was the most precious of resources. I’m not going through this alone because I have them to joke and laugh with. I only wish other families were as lucky.