Doña Margarita

now as i look in the mirror i see the scar on my neck where his ring ripped my skin off and wrinkles from all of the times i smiled before and after the event during that moment i fought back with everything i had i too was Jacob Israel in my bathroom looking down as my fingers blindly feel for eyeliner i think of Doña Margarita standing four feet tall outside of Our Lady Queen of Angels Church where i had gone that night looking for watermelon agua fresca i was thirsty for normal human contact she cajoled me about buying one of her amulets a little brown felt square with a saint on it or was it Michael i don’t recall anymore i smiled and shook my head no and as i walked away my mind was already boarding cloud nine but she followed me and said llevatelo es gratis i took her offering as her eyes turned stony with warning a few blocks away deranged in the annals of fifth street i lost it somewhere so into the bar i stepped had a few laughs saw a few flies guzzled a few vodkas and prepared to go up to the third floor to visit Taino another LA merchant turning the corner to go into the morgue like hotel lobby two arms wrapped around my 80 pound frame and into Werdin Alley we rolled but i swung with weak little arms i reached and i scraped faces arms noses tracers in denial that this was reality i focused on our collective flailing tattoos then ink covered my mind i woke up in County over hearing LAFD say she’s been a victim of a violent crime yet i could still feel the brown felt of Doña Margarita’s amulet in my hand it was anchoring


aquí quedo dormida

este cuarto es azul

tus caricias se borran

con los amaneceres

tus labios huyen de mi

crueles clavos duros

las aves son sin alas

las flores ya no brillan

los ojos de ángeles

sus sangres son de plata

mentiras quedan muchas

soy de carne y hueso

tus soles de cenizas


estou dormindo aqui

esta sala é azul

suas carícias são apagadas

com os amanheceres

seus labios fogem de mim

unhas duras e cruéis

os pássaros são sem asas

as flores já não brilham

os olhos dos anjos

o sangue deles é prata

mentiras existem muitos

eu sou carne e sangue

seus sóis de cinzas


i’m  asleep here

this room is blue

your caresses are erased

with the sunrises

your lips run away from me

cruel hard nails

the birds are wingless

the flowers no longer shine

the eyes of angels

their blood is silver

lies there are many

i am flesh and blood

your suns of ashes


i lived another day in you to drown

and what is here before me drowns again

your buildings fall under my feet and birds

flock in this eve of raging guideless light

i love you in my bones to beg for luck

and mercy from a god or anyone

who finds my deadly skin on the edges

of confusion upon the deserts of the found

old soul

before sunrise on the tidy bed
the bones fall tired
and heavy like wet wool

the prayers on the lips
of the child somehow morphed
into typed babble via stained
finger tips of the woman hand

then there’s the moon
descends with grace
and feet touch the floor
of another tomorrow

Alpha and Omega

my lover is fast




but when my lover is in my bed

my lover has an addicting sweetness

filling the worm holes in my soul

with the light of the stars

under God’s feet

my lover curls my toes with delight

my lover licks and suckles universes

in and out of my body and mind

i never knew existed

my lover’s almost vapory fingers

massage me

penetrate me

in luscious blinding ecstasy

swirling my very breath

in orgasmic space travel

past the Nebulae

that are yet to come

i simply believed

that i loved my lover more than anything, ever

that the continents could fall below me

that Satan himself could drag me

into the molten pits of Hell by my guts

i didn’t care as long as my lover was there with me

on my arm

or at least have my lover close enough

where i could sniff their tarty scent

they got under my skin

i lost control of myself

i lost the life

that i would like to have gotten accustomed to-

and i almost lost my soul, forever


i had not taken notice
that there were no flies
in that lobby
the mail slots are still there
the supernatural tungsten charm of

Bogey cigars and cancer
i can smell the sordid gardenias
when did nature go so wrong
and i can see the nylons and
the hats waiting for a call
i sometimes feel that in
1923 on a rainy day
i took a bottle of pills
ladies were dainty
even then

Bogey never waited in the
silk upholstered chair
for a girl named Gina
or a Midwesterner
called Claire
as a matter of fact
if you must know
my business mac
i have only passed by the glass
guarding this lobby on the way
to nothing more

late at night

when the moths sleep
and the ants strategize
how to crumble a dead
water bug under the house
i wake up with fever.

the riveting white hot
hateful kind that doesn’t
let you sweat. my kidneys
brochette while my heart
slowly bakes and in a pang
of fear i think if i wait
will i live to the morning?

a war rages between heaven
and hell in a warning that
Einstein understood well
relativity unto death and life
the wormholes and quantum
so plainly in sight.

3:13 a.m.
so dimly you come. to
satiate my sole being with
liberty’s cry. but i wait
another season to trial
another pill in the angst
to chase life. a comfort
in theory, in practicum
a lie.


we wrestle in the tarriness

of a bottomless place

going deeper into what

has fallen in myself

you and i are twins of this pit

and the sun goes down

as ever

we walk and do not move

stare at the stars

and are not amazed

by wandering in the forbidden homes

we have touched

their roses;   we have defiled

their souls

squeeze me as i gasp

and longing for you a long time ago

you were me

and now we don’t know each other

your eyes are big

but my eye is bigger

yet i cannot see

without you …