Aquí voy yo imaginándome cosas, cosas que podrían ser, pero no son. Aquí mientras recojo la cama escuchando a los hermanos cantar en la casa de mi madre y mi padre. Aquí que solo me han dejado. Aquí donde la miré ayer desde el otro lado del jardín. Donde lágrimas derramé porque un día ya… Continue reading Aquí
Category: Poems
The Struggle
Another Cripmas around the corner and she quarrels over some Christmas sticks I put around the house, so it’ll smell good till we put the tree up. Reading the paper I have an outburst, thought she’d appreciate the fresh sniffs, but I was wrong. So often good acts unnoticed, but mistakes never missed or ceased… Continue reading The Struggle
Cuarto creciente
Desde la primera planta escucho a tres señores decirme que estoy perdiendo el tiempo pensando, mientras observo al caldero y escucho las palomitas reventar. “Fuerza de voluntad y disciplina”, me recuerda la voz del doctor. Un hombre de diversos negocios; un hombre de consejos. Me muestra una foto de un amigo desaparecido que conocí en… Continue reading Cuarto creciente
74’s
It was a cool Halloween morning when I got my AD 74’s in a town founded by an Irishman, a town nobody knows, and nobody cares about —I finally got my 74’s. “Careful your heart doesn’t burst in your chest, kid.” She didn’t really say that, but maybe I heard it that way. F90.0 “You… Continue reading 74’s
Newman
I slam the pen down on my desk, not hard, but the exasperation is noticeable. I step out now into the rooftop balcony with a plastic resealable bag. I sit down on a red foldable camping chair and attempt to light a Little & Wild with some matches from the J.C Newman Cigar Co., I… Continue reading Newman
The Land of the Hicks
So, we were standing there in the scorching northern heat. We had to wait until one o’clock for the parcel customer service office to open up. I dressed sharp, trying to do some Crockett action, but my colors were too dark. A lady with a blown-out knee stepped out of her white Mercedes Benz SUV,… Continue reading The Land of the Hicks
I can only write what comes from the soul
I can only write what comes from the soul, my greatest drivers — sorrow, solace, and despair. I can only write what comes from the soul, these drivers are terrible things, they bring about an impossible way to live. I can only write what comes from the soul, sorrow, solace, and despair my constant visitors;… Continue reading I can only write what comes from the soul
Ms. Y
Walking down from the nice hotel and casino down in the burning south. A checkered corridor leads me to a room with some books. Larsen is there, so is Kinney. A and I head to Jalapeño´s, then to Chango’s. The walk takes us from Reina, to Union, to Concordia, and finally to Luna. If you… Continue reading Ms. Y
Eleven
Astrid’s mom can see and speak to the dead. She’s upset because her dad passed away trying to save the Amazon. He was eaten by piranhas. At least she got to see her pops again after a murderous youth tried to trade her soul for his return to the living. Today, eleven years ago my… Continue reading Eleven
Youthful Fire
Do youthful dreams die? Do they make our souls tremble as the years go by? As time moves further along from their fulfillment? Do they rattle you from your sleep in the night? Does the stillness of the Dawn remind you of what you could have been? Does a dream of a beautiful woman make… Continue reading Youthful Fire