LatinosUSA

Cheap Thrills

I could not swim just
float, in my thick orange
vest, in the lake–
a cold mirror in
midst of woods and
mountains.
I dropped headfirst
off the wharf, tumbling and
falling, splashing
and going under
and coming back up (because
of the vest) climbing and
dropping again, again, all
afternoon, hitting the water
and being sucked back up
in a whoosh of bubbles, each
time feeling such a rush
of exhilaration I chased
that feeling ever after.

~~

Spring Treasure

pigeon feathers and
dented fenders of
dusty cars, dirty sidewalks
snow going out like the
tide, exposing grass
matted like bedhead, and
the treasures of months’ past:
bottles, wrappers, cans
hidden under snow since
December–
when it first snowed,
remember?
I do.

~~

On Vay Cay She Own

and felt the breeze of the
latest meteor
to pass by, only
39,000 miles distant–
like the warm waft
of an open oven:
the thing brought
rain, four days
and nights
to the damp coast
of emerald:
the Florida panhandle.

~~

tanka

my relatives in the
cemetery, lying under the
mountain–
I am under the mountain
too

~~

Trucks

on my way out the
door to dark
furtherings, along
black snow streets
where eyeless trucks
Om! Broom! Doom!
18-wheelers crawling
up the incline
to a better day
somewhere beyond the
granite burden of Time.

~~

Scared?

Yes.
Of what?
I dunno. Everything, I guess.
Even little babies?
Yes. Afraid I will drop ‘em.