Category Archives: Poetry

Poetic works.

reflections of an old man

the old man, you remember him
with the graying hair and bones
that remembered being tall?

he’s gone, I know, he was gone
long before he was gone, but
now it’s real. real as a dead dog

on the doorstep wanting
to come in from the cold
instead getting buried under a rock
behind the shed.

when i look in the mirror I see him
more than I see myself,
there’s no asking about the hair

even if there was asking,
there’s no denying the eyes
are fading quickly now too.

the painting i should paint

i am staring at the painting
i need to cover over in gesso
to paint over with something
more honest. this lie becomes
too heavy to bear. the colors
too gray and blue and desperate
to explain to passersby
are becoming all we are
and all we can ever become.
i am looking for my brush,
but i don’t need a brush,
only paint, only time, only the desire
to change everything
and forget what needs forgetting

If I Had Purple Hair

On Wednesdays, I would play with books
tell stories of a young boy
i loved, and of course reveal the drawing
of blood from thin little veins
into glass tubes for careful consideration
later. when the words were gone
I would sit in a dark room
considering the importance of groceries
and use all the best swear words
to explain the path I took
to get to this place where I think
I might be found.

The Day Papi left Hispaniola

In matching sun dresses
covered in big pink Bayahibe roses
they walked hand in hand.

The little girl, she said, ‘Mami,
why does the cao fly away
when I run up to kiss him?”

Her mother sighed,
“he does not understand
— he is a bird.”

The little girl nodded, “yes, Mami
but I understand.”

There were no tears,
only the flutter of black feathers
into the blue sky.

Freedom & Ketchup

I eat my burgers raw
as the full moon buggers down street
for a beer — life is simple
the blood can flow
or the flesh can burn

Some people are more perfect than me,
they eat their burgers welldone
damned be the full moon
and the beer — life is perfect
hopeless and full of laughter
smiles and despair

I drive a thousand miles
never considering my burger
never wondering who I am
who anyone else might be

Some people prove their point
they soar like wonder
up the hard gray stony sides
of some unsold product — moonless & quiet
hopeful and full of laughter
smiles and despair

there is no flesh, only bright eyes
and the certainty of a burger
somewhere raw enough to dream
somewhere welldone enough to be satisfied
and still, regardless the moon,
i eat my burgers raw