Love’s Fire

love’s fire is best not described
she moaned quietly

trees bursting into flame
when you least expect it

the river up in smoke
burnt to a cinder just like that

nobody called the fire department
she loved her 3rd degree burns

the blackened skin of passion
red lips crispy against other lips

she woke from her dream
she reached over to touch him

not a single burn mark on him
she went back to sleep still smoldering

...busy with work in progress...

Hopeless Love

Elizabeth Buried Browning

Love At First Sight

it was love
at first sight

     there was a half empty cup
     in her mother’s kitchen sink

a traffic light across the border
had not worked in a year

     a Mexican woman prayed
     vehemently to the Mexican Jesus

her widowed aunt clutched her purse
in the hardware store

     he fell in love with her
     the very first time he laid eyes on her

a school bus squeaked
to a stop

     the moon disappeared
     for unknown reasons

the sun 
left them in the dark

     it was love
     at first sight

she married 
the wrong guy

     the right guy 
     still loves her

The Ground She Walked On

I worshipped
the ground she walked on

foolish me
she laid down footprints of gold

her delicate feet
turned pebbles into pearls

if she kicked a can
it became emeralds

if she stepped on gum
it became diamonds

I worshipped the ground she walked on
but she walked on water

Supermeant Lament

I beat my wings to fly
no dice

the wind’s no help
won’t make it happen

the lake be ringing
cracking pigeons

my head’s stuck in a cloud
check the mirror

the leap took me
to your volcano

back on solid ground
smiling with my power

half the things I do
are really super

At The Amphitheater

oh what a speech
I gave my love

ancient jar dangling
dangerously from wished-for history

the wind in her hair
washing its soul of soul

I dropped anchor
in my poems

the Aegean hot to the touch
of a noun

I told her how beautiful she was
for one in such a hurry

how each shield
darted in green sand

but my most wonderful words
had no effect at all

like a soldier on war
or thorn-covered thorns

Landscape

I made love
to your naked prayers

the bed shining
along its marvelous brim

hypocrisy
become wayward

my shirt like two people
your ankles at war with peace

an animal tries to write
a poem

hill and grass
howl

lyrics rise
against words

to be beat
down

Wild Horses

it was the wrong place
and the wrong time

your blue jeans
were a young animal

a sour box
peering into a sour box

dew is so complex
on glue you said

triangles
or angels I said

as wild horses
could keep me away

The Maker

Dreamed of making love to your broken glass
from my soul.

Pleasure like stones
on the lake bed.

Clouds rattle a kiss
awake lenghtwise.

Mexican pyramid in flight.
Its wires blossom.

Once the rubbish is pushed aside,
I can always love you.

American Poet

He gave a poetry reading
and not even poets came.

He read his best stuff
which was pretty lame.

There was polite applause
as one would expect.

Some laughter at a poem
emboldened his dull intellect.

He rambled on with introductions
which made no sense.

He tried to imbue his dull personality
with bravado and suspense.

But soon he flew ungainly off the stage
back to his newspaper-lined cage.

from the category:Is This Really A Poem?

Majolica Lament, or "Australopithecus"

The farmer in the dell
The farmer in the dell
Ox chip gastrology
The farmer in the dell

The farmer takes a wife
The farmer takes a wife
Pupa reconnaisance
The farmer takes a wife

The wife takes a child
The wife takes a child
Sweetbread electrolyte
The wife takes a child

The child takes a nurse
The child takes a nurse
Cheese futz habitual
The child takes a nurse

The nurse takes a cow
The nurse takes a cow
Flatworm cotalleral
The nurse takes a cow

by Linda Kunhardt

from the May 2010 issue of Poetry
(but I must admit that the
issue redeems itself with a
funny review of Tony Hoagland's
Unincorporated Persons in the
Late Honda Dynasty)

A Mother’s Resurrection


I start across the bridge
the rickety old bridge

which crosses Geronimo Creek
and leads to the cemetery

overgrown by weeds
where my mother has lain

for fifty years now
waiting patiently to be reborn

waiting for the wind to pick up
and the clouds to gather

the fresh spring rain to fall
upon her face

announcing that it’s time to get up
and live again.

Stupid Arizona

stupid arizona, see that
worker
with that hammer
in his hand
he’s roofing your house
he’s painting your house
stupid arizona, hear that
worker
she's cleaning your house
or she’s taking care of your children
at the daycare
he’s doing the work
nobody wants to do
stupid arizona, remember
that worker
you picked up on the corner
and paid him so little
to do so much
after all he’s done for you
you make him a villain,
stupid arizona

El Gran Conquistador

Dios knows I’ve had my share
of naked chicana poetas.

Like an Aztec priest with obsidian knives
I cut out their hearts.

I took them on a bed
of Quetzalcoatl feathers.

I fathered their poor
Malinche children.

I fathered their drowned
Llorona children.

I abandoned them,
I fled like the Mayans.

Amorsito, tu eres my next
naked chicana poeta.

Advice To Young Latino Poets

Never pretend to be a poet
by balancing Martin Espada

on your head.

The Bitch Is Back

You grow that mustache
to hide the fact that you’re a bitch.

You embrace poetry
as if it were dust.

I’ve heard you speak
to interrupt the stars.

I’ve seen you ruin the desert
with your talk of flood.

You only wear that hat
to berate and deluge.

Your kind sucks on metaphors
to look proud,

to swallow and move on---
hot sand following your ass.

My Neice Rebecca In The Green Wheels


Check out the poem here.