Poems

by

Second

succumb for a second

hook my head
in your arm and
crush it against
your heart.
it’s 3 AM and
we are here

trying

to hold it together
to keep a safe distance
to make it to morning
in this life

by

Poems About Waiting

poems about waiting
hover in the corner
by the ceiling
like angels

they don’t mind because
same as angels
waiting is
what they do

they can wait forever
or until tomorrow
they can wait
for anything
or nothing at all
and they won’t wish
you would hurry or
turn on the tv

while you sleep
they are waiting
outside the mosquito net
nearby
with the cats

poems about waiting
might not have words
because speaking
is not what they do

their language is
made up of comas
and spaces

 

by

No Language

y que del poema
que existe pero no
nace porque
non trovo la lingua giusta?
none of them have the right
kind of give
per una cosa così necesario
critical and
importante.
bestow se aproxima but
is too formal and
sounds troppo come
chewing something sticky.
obsequiar feels like you
earned it
and you didn’t
assolutamente no;
soy yo la que merezco
mettere in giù questo peso.
dare, così semplice
andrebbe anche bene
until you conjugate it.
first person singular
cae como un puño
al ojo, a la oreja
y me deja
with no language
per questa poesia
così tenera
que muere por nacer.

by

Addicted to Amazement

let’s become addicted
to amazement
that dizzying electric surprise
when the unexpected
explodes
before our eyes
on our taste buds
over our skin

let’s take it in our coffee
in our water
in our wine
until we can’t live
a single hour without a
surge of glorious disbelief
to calm us

we will claw the earth for it
find it under stones
in the hearts of
little shells
peel it with our teeth from the
bark of tender trees

by

Los Robles Jalan Rayos

maybe gerardo was right.
maybe there is something sinister
after all about the robles,
those twisted branches
bewitched with luscious
humid blooms in the
driest sun of february’s
scalding curse

he always said
los robles jalan rayos and
i rolled my eyes
but now i wonder.
the robles were blooming their
wicked flowers
when i knew
something was wrong

you tried not to be sick
but i saw the night sweats.
i remembered jenna who had them
before she died
and your skin’s undertone
went from peach to blue.
i saw it,
while on the robles
impossible flowers surged from gnarled twigs
and fell
from the sapphire colored sky