 Introverted Vodou
Stay secluded is always first. Become an eremite, a forgotten curse. Let them wish they had never come, if you have visitors, tell them bring no one. They cannot see the shrines you’ve hung for Loa, displaying Papa Legbas tongue, on walls of broken earthen vestigium. Fire and stone , mix with water and air, inside the hounfour possessed. Kay myste burns the sacrificial hair Imperfect, impetus, loneliness consumes, recites, détruit votre âme immortelle, the wild becomes entangled in you.
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 Unsettling Dust
The open sun, flares its fingers, grasping my skin. Stinging it red. Dusted cowboy boots, kick up clouds; which settle, after I’m gone. There is no end to this roam. I will always be dust but never settling after I’m gone.  Rode Home
Dust fog covers the windows Smeared by wipers that pushed soot to corners of the windshield I smoke the last loosely rolled cigarette until it inches burning embers toward my nose singeing hairs on my mustache Flicking the leftovers through the crack blowing the final breath of smoke behind it blinking wiping my eyes with the back of my hand blinded by the yellow lines.  Radicals
In what world do we breath smoke? Inhaling fire lungs full of needles the air is full of radicals they say testing our exasperation our sighs so then why do they bustle fumes into our chest? heaving polluted atoms upon our vascular systems blood curdles for energy For lights and machines hazy red firmaments cower over streets with bustling motors that feed on bones in turn taking a piece of us just to travel more quickly to see longer work faster In what world do I feed on radicals for machines?  Early Morning Potato
trucks fired up in morning haze Waking me up from my dreamy laze What could be so important as to rev and rev I woke up this mornings on the wrong side of the bed So while I was working that day, I devised such a plan As to take out this truck or even this loud ass van I awoke even earlier potato in hand shoved it in the tail pipe, then ran  Virgin Haiku Sequence
Springs caught in the cold Of fall, whispers of summers Response in the winds call A blue sparrow cast’s dim Valleys of geometric Shades in angels trees Grass grows in radial Eyes of paternal glow Shining beneath us They cut all the trees But one, which grows in spite of Its own loneliness  Revolving the Sphere
I spin with and against the axis of the world. I become sound, the light, and the speed of time. It is our inertia that spins on, hurled. My breath is taken in supersonic swirls, The atmosphere evaporates space mid-climb. I spin with and against the axis of the world Feeling the gravitational pull, I am purled Through longitudes and latitudes of primes. It is our inertia that spins on, hurled. Past meridians and tropics of cancer, unfurled Below like declarative lines I spin with and against the axis of the world. There are zones of temperance unknown, impearled That can only be seen from above sublime lifetimes It is our inertia that spins on, hurled. From the adventured coast to the oceans netherworld To heavens posterns, above the glittering sunshine I spin with and against the axis of the world, It is our inertia that spins on, hurled.  Cocina en Guatemala(Guacamole Queen)
Her knuckles squash and mash, Green slime oozing in the cracks. Guacamole Queen The wrinkled creases of Her fingers and hands. Her knuckles squash and mash. Green slime oozing in the cracks. Guacamole Queen Her knuckles squash and mash, Her fingers and hands. Green slime oozing in the cracks, The wrinkled creases of Guacamole Queen  Everything’s Wasted I’ve wasted year, upon year, upon year… Wasted upon years, the years I’ve wasted I've tasted the wasted and pity of time I knew that my time would not be wasted If I tasted the sweetest of life's wine, Oh divine! A taste in haste, reminds me of brine No more waste, No more waste Years upon years, upon years Of recognized hate and disgrace Oh look at the state of all this waste!!!  Eastside of Swing City
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