Born Catholic

"Christ died
for your sins"
I never asked
for that
I never wanted
that

debt

Chicago Paraiso de Guitarristas

 

April 5 on the Tren (y No De "Aragua," Güey)

 

We need more memoirs
About failure
O que não deu certo
Lo que no salió bien
The road more taken
But not wanted
Still
On the Blue Line
Route to a protest
Trumpets of a banda ballad
From an iphone speaker
Graffiti in 6-foot letters
Says: TWO ORGASMS
Then a building:
Headstone Monuments
Factory Direct
312-481-78?7
(shaky tren)
The Picasso perched over
Daley Plaza
Exoskeleton augur
Of something light
Or dark
I can’t say
Which

Something Other Than Truth

 

It's something other than truth

When they talk

Something other than truth

Won't let them hear

Something other than truth

Must rise like a cobra

In a basket

And sway and strike

"My check isn't coming

I can't pay my bills

My doctor is gone

I am dying"

Something other than truth says

"You are not dying

Because you are not real

There are owners of emerald mines

There are those meant

to work and die

In the pale green light

Of the narrowing tunnels"

Something other than truth

Like an esophagus shot through

With a Johannesburg diamond

Like a crane metallic-ripping

The land that forms an island

In the middle of a lake

Digging and removing

Disappearing land

To finally falter

And topple

And vanish

Itself

Guy Gets

 

guy gets a part time job to pay for health insurance

the full-time job & the part-time job

stress his body

his mind begins to falter

guy is tired & gets injured

at home doing some task

now guy can use his health insurance

Northwest Midwest

 

Put the Pictures of Your Saints on the Wall

 

Put the pictures of your saints on the wall

You're going to need them

You're going to need the black and white photo

Of Thelonious Monk in wrap-around sunglasses

Perched over the piano ready to construct

Angular cities of notes

You're going to need the picture of Keith Jarrett

Fronting his European quartet

At a club in Sweden in 1974

Conjuring abstract forms in gospel piano clusters

Put the pictures of your saints on the wall

You're going to need them

As the stalking metallic hyenas

Who want to snatch the beating heart from your chest

Approach the gates of the city

You're going to need the postcard picture

Of Andre Breton sat down at the table

Of another cafe with another cigarette

Taking a break between writing

And seeing the friends with whom

He was seeking to expand the domain of the heart

Riding a skiff through underground Paris canals

Emerging out the side of the Atlantic bluffs

Into a sea of stars