Chicano Poet

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Picture Show

Just came back from a rendezvous with you.
I know it doesn’t seem like it,

the traffic and the buildings
battle it out, the river

arches its back like a cat.
Will a bowl of milk make it our friend?

Hurry before the dogs get here.
And the dogcatcher after the wild ones.

Nobody loves an alley,
the homeless only wander there

because they have no choice.
The moon has lost its romance,

the stars have all come crashing down.
Are those leftover moonbeams in your hair?

I suppose we should have discussed this
while we ate dinner,

or after the movie we both enjoyed
as if it was the last movie on earth.

The theater demolished as we exited.
They were giving away the popcorn.


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