Chicano Poet

Friday, January 31, 2014

The Wasted Box

I wasted my love on you
the strange beating box
left for dead
my purple sun
trapped in a can
made styrofoam noises nonetheless
and one lonesome ray
reached your  mean, mutant smile

oh how you  said you loved me
lifting the surface of the river
long enough for me to fall in love
with what was underneath

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Princess Hotness

She put her soul into the candy of the dead
the Mexican pumpkin candy
the pan dulce of holy hell
her hips gave birth to the lyrics
you want to touch and taste
devour with your mouth of sin
chase down the canyons of the dark
lick your own wings after she's gone
having rubbed up against you one last time
teasing you with her sexy words and nectar
you who have never been so weak

Friday, January 24, 2014

Unrequited Lover

"A kiss that is never tasted,
is forever and ever wasted."
---Billie Holiday

He pined for her like a forest pines for trees
after a forest fire
the bears bunch up
the nutty squirrels
sing tangled up in blue
park rangers smeared in ash
a lone tree ring
hanging on to the fantasy
like an unrequited lover
who has chased a woman
from youth to age
and come up empty-handed
the flask full of foolishness.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

The Imagined Diving Bell Man

Like a cement truck heavy in the heart
he sought the girl with peach thighs
the round iron of her small breasts
and the crackling
which let out the sea
onto his waiting lips
the taste of legs
and the sweet order of trenches
no man should dive into
as he sank deeper and deeper
like a dreamy, twisting wasp.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The Hero

Shoot the lock off the strongbox
which holds my feet to the fire
she said from inside in a little girl voice
as the plates on the back of a stegosaurus
slid past
a gray smile on its ancient face
vociferous trees bent down
in the path which recited purples

once the lock was off
a grown naked woman
whose long blonde hair crowed
stepped out and into my arms

Sunday, January 19, 2014


Redhanded with hot property
I gallop into the ocean
waves made of metal posts
bob up and down like flower stems
whose destination
could fit inside the bottle
I point above my head.
Guilty of love as well as of sin
I steal the lighthouse furniture
to make a home for you
the chairs on which I will
make love to you
held against the crashing surf
cold hands of the moonplace
peep out from their holes
I must move like seaweed
underneath the brittle sand.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Epilogue: Cinnamon Girl

The taste of her cinnamon skin
drove him wild
boards split in half
stones blamed each other
trees let loose their oceans
hearts fled India
cups climbed onto tabletops
her clothes were strewn about
love was over and desire rebuilding
the taste of her cinnamon skin
sweet upon his broken lips

Friday, January 10, 2014


I stole a cherry
from the cherry tree
it was not ripe
and so were you
the taste of love
did not suffice
the rules were natural
as the wind
and treated hollow
from away
you could fathom
and you could tell
when the first fruit
froth of its own
I stole a cherry
from the cherry tree
it was not ripe
and so were you

Wednesday, January 08, 2014

Thighs Of A Girl

"Spatial anatomy must not interfere
with the break."

thighs of a girl
rushing about
       her mother angry
       and brilliant

her lonely heart
burrows deeper and deeper
bridges fall into the river
water gouging
digging and dusting off