Coffee Cup Complaint

—  for all the dharma bums,
              hanging out beneath broken
              down bridges


I want to rant like a over sexed rooster, staggering toward    
  some decadent hen house full of skeletal politicians,
      I want to blow out the pilot light on the stove
        in White Houses that compose songs about burning      
  wheatfields and magnifying glasses that inspect
      the lovers in every bedroom in America.

Le Fée Verte, Absinthe

Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Paris

in the wilderness
of those green hours
gliding with the faerie muse
along café walls virescent,
sighing jonquil wings of poetry,

The Art of Futbol

"Goal" by Teresa Puente

The beautiful game, the world's game, is an art unto itself. For the world's best soccer players, the pitch is a blank canvas where works of art are created game by game through skill and athleticism. For artists, soccer is the inspiration for their art. The Chicago Fire of Major League Soccer brings the two together for the third annual Art of Futbol art exhibition on Thursday, May 16.

Hotel Caribe

I heard the cry of your soul.
The low keening moan
That crescendos into a howl.
I saw your face etched with pain,
The smell of death upon your breath.

I Was There Too

Child,
I was there,
Behind the lens.
Although you can't see me,
I saw all there was to see,
Capturing all I could,
From behind the lens.

Miles from Nowhere

Miles from nowhere
Fighting with a sheet
Tossing and turning
Missing you so much

A Walk to Santa Monica

Desolation angels
with Lululemon between their thighs
Avoid making contact
with their eyes

Who never saw
the lines upon their face
Only the lines of their youth
arrayed upon a mirror

Mexicality FAQ

¡Cinco de Mayo...super mercado!

I am an American
of Mexican descent.

My family didn’t come
to this country,
this country came to us;
we were your hosts.