LatinosUSA

BLACK WITCH

the way you drink your beer
straight from the bottle-
my low civilisation could topple
over you.
some talking dirty in my ear
while you ride at full throttle,
i’m in deeper than the darkest shade of blue-
straight down the middle
head thrown back and giggle
bowstring
rocking
finger plucking
bluegrass fiddle-
harbour in oblivion
black witch of obsidian
born in that pavilion
the empire new.

~~

BASE

i can be de base
or a violin-
dependin’
on what mood i’m in-
seven
is heaven
with Gabriel’s
seeds,
six
is a mixed
hell’s
Mephistopheles-
a bordello
Othello
with Mark Anthony’s
legs bestriding her ocean dew
supping
and tupping
his white ewe.

~~

IN AND OUT ARC

i’ve joined this cast
pressed against the glass
breath condensing,
unsure if the audience will applaud
what is flawed.

some work, ends up poor
for being rich,
every sentence sensing-
swollen and sore
if you over scratch the itch.

i’m still a tramp,
living rough in the park,
seeing light glow different in the lamp
of its in and out arc
as a confused skylark-

sings out of tune,
and scrapes its feet, like a displaced rune
on dry stone walls
and enclosed fences
into decorated halls

and empty envies.
i can cope,
with the trope
and metaphor of a tree,
that roots itself and branches wildly

random as before
without being cut to make a door.
fate is not intangible. it understands,
how a rebel quill in a broken hand
can dig truths out of ancestors and famined land.

~~

IN THE NOTES OF MY GUITAR

i discover who you are
in the notes of my guitar-
love songs
sad songs,
good wronged
grown back songs,
plucking soft and strong
in nowhere
for somewhere
to belong.
chords fill the space
around the beauty of your face,
with lyrics in the breeze
on this road of serendipity,
where silver trees
mark the way to go, and be.