Chicano Poet

2012-02-16T00:56:00.001-06:00

Burro Day

I can’t speak for other burros
but for me

being Burro-American plays no role
in my life as a burro.

Neither does the fact that I’m
a male burro.

I am indeed a very complex burro.
Heehaw. Heehaw.

Sorry about that.
I guess one can not escape one’s burro-ness.

It’s unfair to ask every burro
to fight for burro equality.

It’s unfair to ask a burro
to be the first burro in the major leagues.

Someone has to be burro-come-lately.
Heehaw. Heehaw.

Like I said before. (And this embarrasses me to no end.)
I guess one can not escape one’s burro-ness

2012-02-15T01:01:00.000-06:00

Skipping Stones

I’m sitting with Janay
in her Nash Rambler.

I’m skipping stones
off her thighs.

Her sex is shining
like the sun.

Her lips
orbit the moon.

The gravel street
is a conveyor belt of love.

The streetlight
thinks it can light up the universe.

Ripples spread out on the floorboard
from Janay’s panties.

Suddenly the windshield wipers
wipe us away.

2012-02-10T12:23:00.000-06:00

The Crane

The crane
is feeding on the pond,
the minnow's sliding down inside its neck...thinking...

2012-02-09T12:08:00.002-06:00

The Poet

I think
that I shall never see
a thing
as lovely as a poem by me.

2012-02-07T12:50:00.000-06:00

Raza Comica

The blue plate special
featured beans

I told the waitress
bring me mas

and more pico del gallo
don’t be shy, chulita

she brought coffee
dark as a black hole

the moon was busy
but had come to earth

in the white man’s arroyo
La Llorona was chingona

my short pants upon a chair
la vieja making bacon

I don’t know where
she got the maranito

maybe aplastado by the moon
when it ran out of air

it crushed the pyramid
I use to brag about

we have so much
not to be proud of it’s funny

2012-02-05T18:41:00.002-06:00

Old Neighborhood

I'm walking around the old neighborhood
I never left

the run-down house
begs me to come in

I see it's horrible death
and say maybe next time

the dying chinaberry tree
invites me to climb

I tell it
I don't want to fall

the teenage girl next door
I used to lust for

comes to the screen door
lures me with her thighs

full of cellulite and wrinkled now
I pretend I don't see her

all the old neighbors
gather in the middle of the street

smile and nod and wave
they want a hug

I leave in a hurry
because the past

can make you sick
when it comes back

just slightly
out of snyc

2012-02-02T12:58:00.000-06:00

Papi Was A Rolling Stone

Papi was a rolling stone
even before mami died

he spread his wings
aguila con aguilas

always looking from the sun
an eye for distant stars

he longed for the high life
no matter how many times he crashed

he picked himself up
he dusted himself off

and up he went
papi was a rolling stone

who’d left his ancestral home behind
to live where angels fear to tread

papi was a rolling stone
God welcomed him instead

2012-02-01T11:25:00.001-06:00

Trees Outside A Cantina

Outside the cantina
the trees were drunk with music

a few leaves were belligerent
threatening to cut off each other

at the stems
the veins running along one leaf

were throbbing
the wind refused to get involved

the night was dark
but only because that was its job

and the moon
had worked up a technique

where it would just float in the sky
and pretend to be white

the leaves still rustled
but the fight was over

and no leaf was lying dead
upon the ground

2012-01-31T00:55:00.000-06:00

Rock Paper Scissors

i tried to erase you from my mind
with rock paper scissors

my butterfly eye
knocked out

your cicada genitals
promised elsewhere

my one wing
pressed to the silver sky

the lights on your knees
sweeten night for someone

rock paper scissors
switching on and off

your warm backyard
walks around in sneakers

naked otherwise
my red sex cold in the Himalayas

the Heralayas
below sea level

i have tried in vain
crumbling rock burnt paper broken scissors

2012-01-30T13:14:00.000-06:00

Henny And Bee

The way back machine
has spotted Henny and Bee

the dust along Hidalgo Street
the Shanafelt junkyard

and even further back
the tent-covered roller rink

eons before Vaughn Street
was extended

that crush I had on Bee
was never meant to be

oh how my heart ached
and schemed

and melted like ice cream
but the past is past

and even the way back machine
shakes & trembles & falls apart

2012-01-29T17:58:00.000-06:00

Soul Tren

What the hell’s
this Mexican doing on Soul Train

his high-pitched voice
clashing with the host

hey mami
he says with an accent

you’re not from here
says the girl with the nice butt

it’s all relative
he says

catching the soul sister
by surprise

dancing a cumbia
to the hip hop beat

some stop
once they cross the river

this carnal’s
gone way too far

2012-01-27T11:06:00.000-06:00

History Lesson

The Mexican eagle
sleeps upon a limb.

Half a woman
cries from the arroyo.

A whole bitter race
of lemons on the bank.

A sacred virgin
created just for the occasion.

The snake is begging
on its knees.

Juan was blind
says a detractor.

But the nation
was born anyway.

A playground
which can not mature.

The virgin hugs you
with her cactus arms.

Child, you must know
what you are made of.

2012-01-25T12:58:00.002-06:00

Cantina Blues

The cantina was rocking with smoke
smoke which had been lived in

night after night
El Perro sat at his usual table

his back against the wall
a good view of the dirty door

he knew which cabrón
had a gun

or a knife
or a gun and a knife

he knew which cabrón
was likely to start a fight

after six or seven beers
he knew which saloon girl

to stay away from
El Perro hated going home

but he went home anyway
bipolar son of la chingada

sometimes he was Mexican
sometimes he wasn’t

2012-01-22T21:38:00.001-06:00

Conjunto Blues

The accordion player
has always been an anti-hero

in the smoky cantinas
where immorality is not only tolerated

but a way of life
wayward heart beats deepen in a hole

and always the girl who brings
lipstick to a knifefight

saturday nights and sunday morning
come upon her thighs

the unfaithful husband
who slinks home at dawn

and barks at his wife
because it’s a dog’s world

the conjunto guys
counting pennies sunday afternoon

music still rattling around
in their sweaty underwear

they are addicted to bitterness
and its highs

2012-01-21T00:20:00.000-06:00

Heavenly Haiku

They paved paradise
and put up a statue
of Joni Mitchell

2012-01-19T00:53:00.001-06:00

Arizona: The New Order

The laws they pass
to suppress

the laws they pass
to enslave

the righteous ones
who stand behind them

who can’t read
the Constitution

it is not they
who created the nation

it is not their future
we are seeing

it is their impotence
they advertise

their self-loathing
brought to the surface

it is their sole desire
to impose upon us

a world where nothing grows
but hate

2012-01-14T12:24:00.000-06:00

The Cosmos

I’m playing darts with your boobs
in this violent playful way

which has taken over our lives.
That day you tried to run me over

with your cherub car
in the mall parking lot---

that was sweet of you.
I was running for my life

and yours.
Sometimes we draw blood

and sometimes we don’t,
sometimes you bite my lips so hard,

I almost pass out.
Sometimes when I slap you silly,

you say you see the stars
entering one black hole

and coming out another.
Stephen Hawking screwed again!

2012-01-13T12:39:00.002-06:00

Parting Of The Rio Bravo

God and I went to the movies
to see the Ten Commandments

the black kids had to sit in the balcony
the brown kids hovered in mid-air

we were almost there
and we were not quite there

no one was as good as you know who
but we did our best

my skin did not object
my heart did concentrate

my brain had been conditioned
the sea was boiling

the Pharaoh’s men hot on our heels
the brown kid next to me said is this for real

before the Rio Bravo did its best
to separate Mexican from Mexican.

2012-01-11T12:21:00.001-06:00

Murder Suicide

You’re so cute and silly
pointing the gun at my head

the melting ice caps
and their soggy ideas advance relentlessly

you kick your panties across the room
with your feet

you once saw your daddy
screwing your mommy’s sister

startled by a foghorn
they jumped out of bed

your aunt’s titties
flapped like wings

your daddy’s knighthood
put on hold

your twenty favorite Neruda poems
walk out to sea

the lyrics bubble
rise and pop in your hand

2012-01-10T12:49:00.002-06:00

Days Of Our Lives

You were always fretting
over that small mole left behind by the moon

eyelids
of a word so hard to find in lush carpet

a moon rock
illegally buried in the bowels of Arizona

whales beached themselves
in Austin, Tejas

but that mole
like the dark side of the moon

comes to a gallop
and I pour used motor oil in the brackish backyard.

2012-01-09T12:42:00.000-06:00

Chicano Nerd

After La Virgen de Guadalupe took over from God
my love-life did not seem to get any better

pretty girls still rejected me
chicanas were the worst

at hurting my manly feelings
white girls let me down gently most of the time

slowly I began to realize
that no matter who’s in charge of this mundo

no matter how many candles I lit
I had to switch over

to La Virgen de San Juan---
maybe she’d make me into a chick magnet.

2012-01-06T11:35:00.000-06:00

Poem On His Sixty-Fourth Birthday

Sticks and stones may break my bones
but so can ice cream cones.

The sky will fall,
the clouds roll up into a ball.

Birds will walk out of the sky,
they’ll have no choice, will I?

Sticks and stones will break my bones,
but not just cake alone.

Happy birthday, you old goat,
your poetry has missed the boat.

2012-01-04T01:07:00.000-06:00

Mal De Ojo

I have one eye in the middle
of my forehead

and a broken wing
hidden under my tattered coat

my feet stinky and dirty
my guts

held in place
by a worn belt

and I am
the only Mexican I know.

2012-01-03T01:04:00.002-06:00

The Bullfight

Taken to a bullfight as a child
does not define me

climbing that steep pyramid
whose history doomed us all

the train puffing smoke
in valleys and mountains

broke down at the border
like everything else

still I have blood on my hands
the toreador and his dance

the matador and his sword
plunged into the back of my neck

I am down on my knees
blood gurgling from my nostrils

it amazes me I can get up
to write this

2012-01-01T00:17:00.002-06:00

For Shelby, Age Six

She took a pencil in her little hand
and drew the world as it was meant to be.

You would not recognize it now,
where she put all the trees,

what she cleverly undid
with the seven naughty seas,

the mountains seem to matter more to valleys,
animal eyes so fluffy and so peaceful,

the rivers march before us
almost embarrassed of their waters,

and man himself is spared
all sorts of silly stormy weather.

I am so proud of how
she’s finally fixed God’s faulty world.

2011-12-23T00:42:00.000-06:00

Sky Girl # 5

The perfect body of a girl
falls through the sky.

Her perfection
beyond reproach.

Stormy blue eyes
tear lightning apart.

Her hair
wet from slinging vowels.

Her smile
broken in half.

Her thighs
plant their mark.

The world’s
about to start.

2011-12-21T00:59:00.000-06:00

La Chureca

While at La Chureca birds are shooed away by children
a comet heads straight for Managua, Nicaragua

Cardenal’s name carved on its burning ice
just punishment says Tachito from the grave

for everything there is a season
a time to observe comets

and a time to receive comets
the old poet blinks

and then is blinded by the light
the children’s meal is interrupted at the dump

is there no justice in this world?
no, there is not, the non-poets shout

the lake has disappeared
the trees lie burnt like matchsticks

and a tiny pebble is all that’s left
of the Mayan comet.

2011-12-19T00:00:00.005-06:00

Courteney Cox

I was reciting one of my poems
when Courtney Cox jumped up on the stage

and started swaying her sexy slender body
to my lyrics making them come alive

my humble poem caught fire
spewed lightning

attracted the attention of the po po
and then the fire chief warned that my poem

had exceeded the posted capacity
he said Courteney had to go

to which I reluctantly agreed
since I was not the boss.

2011-12-15T12:59:00.000-06:00

Of Love And Spiders

To show you how much I love you
I pull baby spiders from your hair

and you know how much I hate spiders
their beastly eyes look too deep into my soul

my jeans are shaking
and my genes are shaking

I try not to break off their legs
what good would they be

what good are they now
my brain is asking questions

my mind can never answer
when there’s not a single baby spider left

in your beautiful red hair
I realize love can make us all over-achieve.

2011-12-14T00:00:00.000-06:00

Dear John

John, I tried so hard to imagine the world
you saw in your mind’s eye

but we still kill with our religions
hunger and greed still rule

peace seems to be something
too out of this world

our possessions are way too important to let go
our warring countries come first

I tried so hard to imagine
what you imagined

so far I’ve had no luck
I guess there’s always mañana.

2011-12-13T01:04:00.003-06:00

The Apocolypse

The world was going along just fine
Mexicans were killing themselves like always

aficionados were going crazy over senseless sports
good religious people were at each others’ throats

the ice caps were melting for liberals
the ice caps were not melting for conservatives

God was either dead or alive
depending on what distorted point of you held

and everybody knew everybody’s business on Facebook
the world was apparently spinning on its axis

one day NASA failed to spot a giant asteroid
which wiped out most of humankind

only the Mexican race survived the devastation
Acosta’s people had somehow triumphed once again

soon they were killing each other otra vez
the world was going along just fine.

2011-12-12T00:45:00.000-06:00

Welcome To The Jungle

That night you wanted me desperately
and I had to tell you no I can’t

this with a stone spear pointed at our bellies
the natives restless and blood-thirsty

lions roaming and counting their pennies
out there in the bush

the coppery sound can turn your stomach
zebras hide under the bed

hyenas laugh into their hands
they alone know how it’s going down

you pull your panties back on and say
it’s a jungle out there.

2011-12-09T01:26:00.000-06:00

Tale Of A Japanese Sailor

All I heard down in the engine room
was Tora! Tora! Tora!

This artificial light
had to come from somewhere good, I thought.

Back home perhaps Nara deer
looked for a confirmation from the surf.

A child played on the shore,
my little sister too young to seek each wave aloud.

When the planes returned,
it was all cheer.

The harbor was glorious,
they said.

The engine room did not change
as we criss-crossed brackish seas.

Until they sank us
we steamed along quite gallantly.

Does this journey down below
demand that salt water spew everywhere at once?

My eyes bulge and explode
against a bulkhead after I am dead.

2011-12-08T01:04:00.001-06:00

The Pearl

Planes dropped their bombs
and sprayed their bullets.

Planes which did not know
right from wrong.

The men inside of them
had minds of their own.

They’d come from far away,
fleeing the rising sun.

Their mission was sweet
and desirable to the Generals.

Their minions
were mostly minions.

The war went on
in sea and land and air.

Many lived
and many died.

But everything
remained the same.

2011-12-07T00:59:00.000-06:00

The Poet Is A Dinosaur

He put pet dinosaurs in his poems
and baseball mitts.

He was so far out in left field,
he played football.

The dinosaurs were well-suited
for snowglobe weather.

They ate the grass
from underneath the quarterback.

The princess/cheerleader was their favorite
as she bathed and shaved.

The poet himself was covered
in Martian soil.

Leather had once been sub-human
which brought a tear to his eye.

A stadium devoid of human suffering
was ideal but ill-advised.

He was a poet after all
and words failed him every time.

2011-12-06T00:55:00.001-06:00

The Figure Skater

The figure skater’s crotch
was there for all to see.

Outside the yellow cabs
displayed their undersides as well.

If God was looking down,
he played the clown.

A homeless man crossed the street
to get home.

The wind was blowing out of the north,
no one knew why.

A space craft hurtled in outer space
as if it was a race.

The figure skater fell flat on her ass,
but what an ass.

The subway waited patiently
for crowds to gather.

One more day had ended in the city
that never sleeps and therefore never wakes.

2011-12-05T12:24:00.000-06:00

The Thinking Gypsy

for luis omar salinas

Like Omar said in one of his poems
have faith in all things

have faith even in the bad things
of life

get down and dirty he said
don’t go through life all spic and span

get out of those white clothes
take off those white shoes

discard those white socks
and underwear

have faith in all things
good and bad.

2011-12-02T01:24:00.002-06:00

The Space Girl’s Hat

The space girl wore her pointed hat
and warned the absent hero of regret.

On planet Mongo
meten chango.

The rocket ship pours smoke
and noiseless noise.

The crash is never fatal,
the villains hide behind the rocks.

Their ray guns dose ornate.
I’m glad I already ate.

The space girl does her job,
shows off her thighs.

She says that alien clothes
belong back in 1936.

The alien robots wear a bucket
on their heads.

A sword fight here in outer space
must be won at the expense of grace.

The space girl we must indeed admire
not just for coiffure attire

which stays intact
after she repels attacks.

But even in the weightlessness of space
she mimics gravity with such distaste.

2011-12-01T11:49:00.000-06:00

Wingless Angel

Her perfect body like an Indian untouchable
wanders through the hollow streets.

The monsoon drags its faucet
in a wondrous bucket.

A tuk tuk fibs
against purple silk.

Her skin is dark and homeless
but guiltless as a storm.

Her smile fetches flying wheels
in temples of sex.

And in the morning
I seek her in the dirty Ganges.

On the wrong side of the river
stands Gandhi’s evil twin.

Only the wings are missing
from my angel now.

2011-11-30T11:56:00.000-06:00

The Mayan Comet

She landed on a comet once before,
she’s done her job upon the stars.

The rock and metal remain,
the ice is turning into gas.

Her rocket has veins showing,
and sweaty muscles for life support.

The sun is dangling
from its string.

She’s climbing back into her rocket
which trembles like a doe.

The earth is not just a planet
but a way of life you know.

Light speed slows down to a crawl
around her.

The landing is quite dusty,
the desert thighs so hot.

The nerdy scientists wear cotton glasses,
they’ve run out of soda bottles.

“You’ve made amazing discoveries
which as a rule we must deny.”

said the frumpy, gay generalissimo
to her gorgeous, naked eyes.

2011-11-29T01:02:00.000-06:00

The Bus Stop

There I was blowing up settlers
at a bus stop.

The silence was terrible
and appeared higher and higher.

The bright light was so dark,
empty words fell out of my lifeless head

and instantly I knew
the one solitary thing.

My body was no longer mine,
yet even more mine than before.

God was nearby and refused
to get involved.

He sent his shallow angels
who fanned their oily wings about

and leapt back into the hole of heaven
as if nothing would ever happen.

2011-11-28T00:00:00.002-06:00

…recently I (that’s me) have started writing
in a minaturistic style, leaving no room whatsoever
for imagination to interfere with the final outcome…

When Supergirl Was Six

When Supergirl was six,
she sputtered when she flew.

She was not top
nor bottom heavy.

Some boys liked her,
some did not.

But, oh boy, when she bloomed,
there was no standing room.

So pretty when she flew,
so pretty when she landed.

Her cape wrapped around
her perfect body.

No criminal was safe,
no villain free to flee.

But when Supergirl was six,
she sputtered when she flew.

2011-11-27T16:11:00.000-06:00

Cartoon Poem

When Tom Terrific blows his top,
his thinking cap is hard to stop.

His tree house catches fire
making it much higher.

Mighty Manfred The Wonder Dog
sleeps like a spacious log.

Tom’s foes are rotten to the core.
When they get beat, they get quite sore.

When The Thing King paints rainbows black,
Tommy brings the color back.

Mr. Instant’s evil toil
is no match for Tommy’s foil.

Tom’s Wonder Dog goes dreaming
that Crabby Appleton cries screaming.

When Tom Terrific blows his top,
his thinking cap is hard to stop.

2011-11-25T13:45:00.000-06:00

The Giant Robot

He was a giant robot looking for love
on a very strangely planet.

The suns were dizzy
with what they had to do.

Nearby stars expelled their light,
and confined themselves like ruby slaves.

No comets came to save the day,
a ringed-planet dropped its rings.

The robot looked for love in vain.
His eyes exploded which was plain to see.

His love-interest was a small robot
which made her hard to find.

He cursed the planet for its vastness,
and grasped at glassy straws with his dented hearts.

2011-11-22T11:26:00.000-06:00

2011-11-18T00:59:00.001-06:00

Tumbling Towards Earth

Abuela was a warrior and a waif,
in her sixties she still enjoyed sex and bragged about it.

She cut the enemy in half with her light-saber
and felt no guilt.

How do you think Mars became free once again?
Not from the efforts of men!

Abuela flew her space fighter as far away
as the rings of Saturn,

fought the dense gravity of Jupiter,
brought back ice-rodents from Io---

the cracked moons of the solar system
were no match for her.

She wrestled asteroids just for the hell of it,
and let them go tumbling towards the earth.

She never told us grandkids
what revenge she sought.

2011-11-16T12:24:00.000-06:00

The Raygun

(Me entiendes, Mendez?)

One day abuela got careless and left her raygun lying around
and I blasted my cousin Mandy Mendez to smithereens.

Well, not really, she did recover,
but her eyes were never brown again,

and that spiky hair, well, it’s natural now.
Oh, she forgave me,

but I don’t think abuela ever did.
One thing for sure, she never left that raygun

lying around anymore.
Of course,I think the scar I carry with me

is bigger and more noticeable than Mandy’s,
at least out here in outer space.

2011-11-15T01:13:00.000-06:00

Rocking Chair Rocket

In abuela’s intergalactic travels,
she encountered many adventures

which she related to us grandkids as bedtime stories.
Scary no-headed monsters,

a two-story tall space princess,
rockets that moaned as they flew

through the living planets of silk and stone.
We’d go to bed past midnight

and dream of abuela in her spacesuit
battling the enemies of Aztlan,

and occasionally we’d have nightmares
which bubbled into daytime,

tales we told our classmates in elementary school
who looked at us with disbelief in their bulging eyes,

and tried to bully us with no success.
Abuela, now old, sits in her rocking chair on the porch.

2011-11-14T00:00:00.000-06:00

The Lake Monster

The lake monster is an ugly girl
who’s only photographed on rare occasions

and all the doubting thomases
claim she’s a floating log

or the wake of a passing boat.
She’s so shy and her hair is always wet,

she’s dark green and a momentary glimpse
makes you realize how sexy she really is.

Oh of course she’s still ugly
but what do you expect from a lake monster?

2011-11-11T01:13:00.001-06:00

Sparrow

Today I woke up and I was a sparrow,
ate worms, flew, scratched fleas,

landed on limbs, was chased by black birds,
was annoyed by the hammering of a woodpecker.

Man is the enemy, his guns, his horrible language,
his chainsaws, his disrespect for anything that flies.

I guess I have too much time on my wings.
I look and listen and take in.

I build nothing, isn’t it curious?
And yet I am quite content.

I eat worms, bugs, breadcrumbs,
I fly and I scratch my fleas.

Did you think I was going to enlighten you?
Friend, I am but a sparrow.

2011-11-10T01:01:00.002-06:00

Fixing Abuela’s Robot

I am fixing abuela’s broken robot,
replacing the motherboard which is the size of a cricket,

black and silver lines down its back,
no real eyes but god the things it can see and do.

Abuela uses it for normal stuff,
sends it to the tienda,

out to the jardin to pick the yerba buena,
to hang clothes on the clothesline.

Abuela does not believe in washing machines.
I know, I know, I know what you’re saying to yourself,

then how come she’s got a robot.
Well, all I can say is that abuelas are not to be questioned.

“Abuela, your robot is ready.” I tell her,
and she puts the son of a gun to work right away.

2011-11-03T12:05:00.000-05:00

Magic Carpet Ride

Flying over the barrio
on my magic carpet.

I got pulled over
by Homeland Security.

I look too Arab
and they’ve soiled their pants

before they realize
I’m just a Mexican.

I pick up sexy gringas
but they want to vacuum my carpet.

Hey what happened to Chavez Ravine,
they’ve turned the shacks into a parking lot.

I fly too low
and the cops shoot holes in my rug.

The blacks don’t want me
flying over their spiffy ghetto.

Even on a magic carpet
I’m still a Mexican to everyone.

2011-11-01T12:44:00.000-05:00

Chicano House Hunting

She said (so seriously) there’s no such thing
as a Chicano-only house.

I said, I beg to differ,
as we peered into the casa

where once the famous Chicano poet
Lalo had lived.

The street was crowded with other houses
just like his.

How could poetry have its roots here
I asked her.

She scratched herself
which I thought was a very unlady-like thing to do

and had no answer
to my previous question.

Soon the barrio spread out
and disappeared into a blinding white light.

2011-10-31T12:19:00.000-05:00

Poetic Episode In Juarez

The violent little poet had tried to cut her throat
when he remembered he was a poet.

The lyrics poured out of him like candy
from a busted piñata.

Each poem in his lovely book could easily win over
his harshest critics he thought.

And Rigoberto Gonzalez would probably review it
for the El Paso Times.

He put down the knife thinking
I might leave Juarez this merry minute.

He was saying this out loud in nervous Spanish
as a crowd of open-palmed policemen gathered.

The girl rubbed her reddened throat
realizing she would be just fine.

As our poet hurried across the bridge into El Paso,
the Rio Bravo was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

2011-10-27T13:34:00.000-05:00

Journey To The Center Of The Earth

He put his lily-white hands on her bare shoulders
and kissed her neck and then her nipples.

His tongue dove into her navel,
journey to the center of the earth,

the downward spiral,
crystal stalactites glowing,

soothing water rushing up
into the chambers,

heat filling the pipes,
the underground river a boon

to those without the sun and moon.
Love this deep down into the earth

must be excused and not left to luck.
Up on the surface we can not love like this.

We should make this our home,
he whispered in her ear, her naked body glistening,

the core of the earth so hot
and beautiful.

2011-10-26T01:30:00.000-05:00

Elvis In Outer Space

Reading Elvis Presley’s autobiography,
I’m surprised to learn

he only made one science fiction movie.
I doublecheck the Internet

(like the Internet needs checking!)
just to be on the safe side.

And sure enough, cyberspace confirms it.
Still, it’s nice to know

the King saved earth
at least once in his hip-swiveling lifetime.

2011-10-21T12:29:00.000-05:00

2011-10-21T00:53:00.000-05:00

Barrio Tale

La brown Sleeping Beauty
was head over heels in love with Prince Harming.

She forgave him each trespass,
telling family of her clumsiness,

how she’d walked into a door,
hiding the bruises on her back

until one night Prince Harming went too far
and put la Sleeping Beauty into a very deep sleep.

No kiss was going to wake her up
from the barrio fairy tale.

2011-10-20T00:50:00.000-05:00

The Hunter Of Zombies

Each live zombie counts as five points she says,
making sure everyone understands

she’s way ahead.
So what else is new

complains her primo hermano Cheto.
Her machete glistens red

against the predicted sunset.
The barrio’s hind legs

give off their dues and then some.
Brown families

hurry along the river bottom.
Dead abuelas sweep the banks

with homemade brooms.
Go back to your tombs she yells.

The barrio’s black eye
winks with sarcasm from the broken dam.

Our heroine waits in the shadows
for nightfall to rise with the fog.

2011-10-19T00:41:00.000-05:00

2011-10-18T12:19:00.000-05:00

Swimsuit For Lyrics

for c. c.

In your new swimsuit
of lyrics,

the lyrics I can’t
quite fathom.

Pelvis of
a female Elvis,

your salacious thighs
give birth to a seven pound God.

I’m the school boy
dumped dead

revived
for this occasion.

Your sex
dried by the wind,

and the snow
hot as hell.

2011-10-17T12:03:00.000-05:00

Summer Landscape

After he shot up,
a taste like that of a black magic woman

filled the back of his throat.
At that moment---

he was not an addict anymore,
shunned by family and friends,

who had no money to give him,
who guarded their personal possessions

when he was around.
At that moment---

he was sailing silver hills,
flying as if he was the gutsy barrio sky,

the cool breeze
danced inside the summer leaves

of the tantalizing trees in his head
uprooted just now

tossed into the dirty
and dusty San Antonio River,

whose innards
harbored no ill will towards friend or foe.

That sweet taste
fading now.

2011-10-14T01:00:00.000-05:00

Sweet Home Alabama

I was wearing my illegal alien outfit in the barrio
which would have been ok almost anywhere else

except I was in Alabama
where they don’t like anything brown

they must shit white turds
mark my words

so I took the next Greyhound bus
out of the state

trying to get away from the hate
my heart pounding

every time I saw gringos out the windows
I crouched down low between the seats

between a rock and hard place---
the story of my raza.

2011-10-12T11:34:00.000-05:00

Inferno

The poet being headstrong
dove into the underword,

hideous creatures left and right
did threaten.

Each obstacle to be sure
must be carved out.

The giant muse
requires a giant pupil.

So many things
can go wrong with wrong.

The larvae of boulders
do not fly.

Desire’s ruby tail,
white flapping shoulders.

Lips brought here
by asteroid.

2011-10-12T01:24:00.000-05:00

2011-10-06T12:13:00.000-05:00

2011-09-30T00:38:00.002-05:00

El Verdadero Fresh Prince

I was getting in trouble en la hood,
so la jefa said

move out with your tia to Bel Air,
so I said, is that the tia who sells tortilla?

y la jefa said no pendejo
she’s the one who makes a killing

catering dope to the rich in Bel Air,
so I took the next Greyhound bus

and soon I was helping la tia
selling the soul by the pound

and sending la jefa
her share of Bel Air.

2011-09-29T00:58:00.001-05:00

Stone Idol

The fear of God in you,
you hesitate to tell me it’s ok.

The sun is not in her place.
Moonrise struggles somewhere else.

Each wrong made right.
So, it’s possible.

Love like ours
unknown like the mound builders.

And where did the Mayans
vanish to with their desires?

It is all I can do
to make it through the calendar’s end without you.

I tell you sex is the same thing as love,
and only love objects.

2011-09-28T00:49:00.000-05:00

Camaron Que Se Duerme

Oh for a bite of your see-through thighs
against the rapids.

A net of nails
your mother built.

Family tree upsidedown
threatening laundry.

Oh for a taste of your heart
in the maddening crowd.

Your sweet blue eyes saying no
before the fall.

But in the middle of this river
we are one and the same with these pebbles.

Nature makes us natural
even facing a foe such as man.

Camaron que se duerme
se lo lleva la corriente.

2011-09-22T12:44:00.001-05:00

Check out The Jingle Monster.

2011-09-18T22:23:00.000-05:00

The Princess Resurfaces

What is an Inca princess
doing this far north?

I ask myself
before I drift off to sleep like an iceberg.

The seals gallop
in their forest,

and someone’s left a trumpet
in the vines.

Didn’t her people
retreat into the mountains?

It takes a stone rocket
for that kind of circumnavigation.

Sleep-stuff
leaves a thickened resin.

Her bare thighs
adorned with an unbearable scent.

2011-09-14T11:35:00.000-05:00

Wildfire

The fire rages inside of me.
I am burning down for you.

First the roof goes,
then the walls.

My heart hides behind a sofa
but soon both go up in flames for you.

Only the black chimney
stands tall and proud.

The fire rages on
downhill from my charred heart.

There is not enough water
on this planet to put it out.

I am burned to a cinder for you,
each breath I take fills the sky with ash.

My smoking arms
reach out to embrace you.

The embers of my lips
glow deep into the night like stars.

2011-09-13T00:49:00.000-05:00

Visit From An Aztec Angel

An Aztec angel sat on my lap
and dug out my wonderful eyes.

Her halo dripped honey
over my lowly shoes.

Her feathery thighs
were joined at the wings.

My blistered breath was
pouring onto her ruby shoulders.

I used a club
to knock down black birds from a tree.

It made her swoon.
Her raven hair tasted of new-born fruit.

She shoved her beating heart into my mouth
and bite my lips until they bled.

2011-09-12T00:00:00.003-05:00

Helen Mirren 1967

Via dvorak.org

2011-09-11T00:00:00.000-05:00

Latin Lover

You can not know it
how much your love tortures me.

My arm shot off by Cupid’s misfire,
my legs ache from Mexican lava.

My eyes have run off
with your virgin thighs.

You can not know it
how much it hurts to be away from you.

You tell me each day is like a balloon
popped by an unruly crown of thorns.

Each kiss intercepted by demons
before it gets to my Latin lips.

We’re like two ships in the night
aground on different vicious shores.

My heart flaps in the wind
like cactus.

I’m thrown down a well
by Mayans.

My heart cut out
by Aztecs.

You can not know it
how much your love tortures me.

2011-09-10T00:38:00.000-05:00

Little Goddess Of These Here Western Parts

I point my toy gun at you
and order you to remove your cowgirl britches.

You look at me in awe
I’m your first gunslinger.

In my Western vest
I’m a glorious pest.

You were innocent against the dusty hills
which were a mere thousand years old.

You were as sweet as honey.
I was a big brown Mexican bear.

I pointed my toy gun at the sun
and made you look up up up.

I pistol-whipped the moon
and made you watch.

2011-09-09T12:34:00.000-05:00

2011-09-01T00:44:00.001-05:00

via Juan Tejeda on Facebook

2011-08-19T00:35:00.000-05:00

Promonition

I feel like renaming the dog today. He has not started a revolution.

-----Poeta Power on Facebook

After abuela managed to calm down our brother
actually slapped him a few times until he snapped out of it

the happy-go-lucky creature just wanted directions
the touchscreen on my Cesar Chavez universal phone

was broken so I was careful not to break it even more
space travel is not kind to inundated

communications devices this far out from
our murderous civilization as we know it

once we got the myriad creature
on her merry way we gassed it again

tenants in a strange world
we wanted to get to the mountain wings

for refuge and forsaking
the supplemental gates were supposed to be generic

yet clinically special to our mission
the Cadillac skin suddenly develops

red goosepimples as it sensed danger
abuela’s toxic smile made us nervous

as smile upon smile is wont to do
she clutched her broken ray gun

the live machete mumbling
a makeshift derision

2011-08-18T00:28:00.000-05:00

Voice Box

Her larynx hands had us stumped and staggered
the creature had stepped in front of our Cadillac

and stopped us cold even though we were
travelling at two hundred miles a millisecond

the top down once again
the radiator gulping and scrambling

abuela’s half-open robe
melting in the jagged wind

which carried rubble into shrubs
each ration of fog in a column

the creature looked at us
her musculature in a puddle

the flames of her fingernails
pointed at something

the foliate like a chorus
we gassed it

the empty tires went nowhere
a shoal apartment

appeared out of childhood
not now not now I heard on of my brothers say

2011-08-17T01:19:00.000-05:00

Star Field

When abuela came out from behind the glass bushes
she was running her cane up in the air

knocking away the falling stars which had begun to rain down
we were hurriedly pulling up the top of the Caddie

at the same time we were yelling
pronto abuela pronto

grandma was hauling ass
as much as a crippled old grandma can haul ass

the mountain wings we were heading for
appeared to get closer hour by hour

but the next framed minute
they appeared minuscule and axe-like misty

while we complained abuela kept saying
there’s nothing wrong with this planet that a little cilantro won’t cure

the stars finally stopped falling
and the salty moons rose like yellow seeds

2011-08-16T09:49:00.001-05:00

2011-08-16T00:30:00.000-05:00

Pit Stop

We made pinpoint progress toward the mountain
sun shining like a fish in the sky

the cumbersome distance seemed to get smaller
the glittering dish of the climb

an example of descent
the propeller like a snake

let loose on someone’s desperate breath
should the convertible run out of gas

inky walks would not be good
each screen to separate sand from us

we kept driving and convulsing into the double night
until it tripled itself

until we had to stop
so abuela could pee

2011-08-15T12:45:00.000-05:00

Cadillac

As we trudged along on the hard quicksand
our eyes bulged out as we came upon

a 1960 Cadillac…what was this relic
doing on the other side of the solar system

we boys stood there in awe until abuela said
see if it starts…we looked at her

as if she was suffering from Alzheimer’s
but I climbed in anyway

and to my amazement the keys was in the ignition
my hand crawled towards them

like a Mexican centipede
I said a padre nuestro

and turned the key
vroom vroom went the

the powerful V8
the motor not the tomato juice

2011-08-12T11:58:00.000-05:00

Across The Ashen Sea

Abuela stood guard while us boys
ate beans and tortillas

the ray gun machinegun pointed out the window
she had once shot the earlobe

off an alien at a thousand yards
that’s about as close as you’d want an alien to get

tomorrow we must cross the cinders plain
the beetled boat would have to suffice

we told each other none of us very confident
the hill from which the sun rose

was straw pink when it was time to go
we paddled for what seemed like light years

our sombreros soaked from the constant rain
tooth fish swam in abuela’s bonnet

the shoreline was in a slumber when we landed
and did not put up a fight

each grain of sand protected by a force field
the sea had an appetite of skin

we found refuge in a cave
which motioned to us in its sour clothes

sometimes you have to wonder
how and why these planets came to be

2011-08-11T12:22:00.001-05:00

Con Abuela In Outer Space

Why had we dragged our aging abuela
this far out into the warring solar system

abuela would not be proud of her grandsons
these knobby oceans which washed ashore

on this alien and abrupt planet
exuded past glory…its temples

needed babysitting now…the watery lightning
was more of an irritation than a threat

the enemy used it to their advantage
or so we thought…their black rockets

were odd…their gender snapped in two
once they were killed

abuela made beans and tortillas
on the cumbersome coals we made out of wild fish bones

the angry moons crisscrossed the skies
like barrio kids twisting and coiling hubcaps

2011-08-10T00:49:00.001-05:00

Homage To Space Dust

Out in the vast darkness the space dust says
this is what I am famous for

no argument here…no need to pass the buck…
I once asked a Mexican who should have known better

but he didn’t savvy…a comet flew by
went back in its cave

the asteroids wearing the same robe
and the same belt…mark that down

for the next gift-giving season
yet the house of space dust none the worst for wear

my rocket ship sharp as a razor blade
its nose thawing out

the vegetation growing in a tank down below
lets go a smile

which drops to the floor
and crawls up somebody’s leg

2011-08-09T11:34:00.000-05:00

Crashing On The Moon

Walking on the moon eating moondust
lying down sleeping in craters using my sash as a pillow

your handbag missing since last august
your high heels the ones gave you nosebleeds

what’s happened to them? I’m always hearing
that rockets are coming to get us

help is on the way the broken cones which lie about
still unexplained the occasional crunching rain

dragons whistling in crater snow
bashful of the sun I guess we’re stuck

with the situation grin and bear it
I’m surprised you’re taking it so well

a comet in the sandy trees headed to earth
pauses in the berries and continues

breaks the monotony of the black stars
oh for the twisted pipes of downtown

2011-08-08T00:00:00.001-05:00

Robot

The robot has so many skills hidden away
in that metal skull of his

the power of the flash the strong light corralled
in his gloved hands the strength of tens of chimps at least

but he is governed by the laws log jammed
ice built up between ice

sight divided from sight by the mere fate
which accompanies and ushers

said the beautiful young woman
by appearances too young for such wisdom

the robot knowingly at hand
its rotating antennae after something

however remote or near
the meteor shower of black leather

swoops in and then gathers itself up
like some other garment some other fabric

2011-08-05T00:43:00.000-05:00

Aztec Goddess

No Aztec goddess now
but way back when

can’t fight Spaniards
from here

the jungle
in my thick-headed skull

poison arrows
captive poison arrows

the virgin
wasted in a well

the directions
we follow today

dark brown
yet so light

2011-08-02T00:51:00.001-05:00

The Diner

Getting into a fight in a diner
because Mexicans aren’t welcome

the spine of a cactus blue in the face
clouds with billowy and bushy tails

you can’t get real life just by living
or pausing in mid-sentence

the owner of the wayward
at the beck and call

of the caterpillar girl
her many sweet legs still Mexican

nonetheless and nonetheless
we shall go but farther down the road abuelo said

2011-08-01T12:40:00.000-05:00

Then And Now

uninterrupted wildebeest

dropping into the muddy river
of her blonde hair

anxious light modeled from clay---
from what scavenged star

its beast of jungle heat
dumped on big city flowerpots

the million buildings swallowed by human lions
boogie woogie all evening long

she threw her hair back
her owl eyes once raped by a janitor

in the sixth grade girlsroom
her toes a great joy her tongue her lips

superfluous now
she’s dancing with a spatula

2011-07-29T10:36:00.002-05:00

El Corno Emplumado

Your body floats
and falls thru my mind

like dripping cotton candy
your discarded clothes

blame me
I toss down my wings

my neighbor (the monster)
drags his bad leg

in his backyard garden
spying on us

your hourglass shape
bruises my minutes and my hours

what good is life
without its feathered horns

2011-07-28T11:39:00.000-05:00

Despues

Cowering under a school desk
waiting for the white flash of light

the burning churning winds
Miss Rodriguez said would come

telling us first graders you will not
hear the explosion and she assured us

that we would be ok despues
we didn’t know who or what this cuba was

nor did we care all we kept asking was
can we still go and play outside during recess

Miss Rodriguez assured again us yes yes of course
she was an optimist and after the bomb went off

after the blinding light and the fireball
we did indeed go outside to play in the school yard

our burnt skin and burnt hair falling off
as we flew higher and higher on the swings

2011-07-27T11:04:00.001-05:00

Barrio Boy

I wake from a nightmare,
my lips are angel leaves

fallen from the ugly tree
which always smiles at barrio boys.

Its pockets inside out,
sporting a rotted sweater,

its radio station
playing Fifties music.

Have I been
bad?

The closet spits out
tremendous thoughts,

and will not let
my clothes back in.

My heart
curled up like a mangy dog,

chest wrinkling
its accordion.

2011-07-26T11:38:00.000-05:00

Stunt Man

As a poet
I am required

to perform my own stunts,
it would be unethical

to hire a stunt double.
This juggling of words

is way too dangerous
to let someone else

stand in.
Words sharp as knives

must be tossed carefully,
and not caught

by the handle---
that would not be poetry.

2011-07-25T12:24:00.000-05:00

Black SUV

My poems arrive
in a black SUV.

I can’t see anything
through the tinted windows.

I won’t know
what they look like,

I won’t know
what they sound like

until the doors open
and they step out

like somebody famous
or notorious.

2011-07-23T23:04:00.003-05:00

 The Raquel Welch Poster

Sometimes I’d like to get away
through Raquel Welch’s hole

through time       the coastline
in Mexico meticulous and mucho

the ageless beauty of a woman
always coming in like surf

the roundness          a metaphor
for anytime from prehistoric

to now to never to               forever
sometimes I’d like to crawl away

through Raquel Welch’s poster
on the wall          win or not

because there never is or will be
a win or not

a million years with you   oh cavegirl
will not be          e   n   o  u   g    h

2011-07-21T00:49:00.001-05:00

The Worm by ROBERTO BOLAÑO

Let us give thanks for our poverty, said the guy dressed in rags.
I saw him with my own eyes: drifting through a town of flat houses,
built of brick and mortar, between the United States and Mexico.
Let us give thanks for our violence, he said, even if it's futile
like a ghost, even if it leads to nothing,
just as these roads lead nowhere.
I saw him with my own eyes: gesturing over a rosy background
that resisted the black, ah, sunset on the border,
glimpsed and lost forever.
Sunsets that enveloped Lisa's father
at the beginning of the fifties.
Sunsets that gave witness to Mario Santiago,
up and down, frozen stiff, in the backseat
of a contrabandist's car. Sunsets
of infinite white and infinite black.

Read the rest here.

2011-07-19T13:08:00.000-05:00

On the Toad by J.D Nelson