Silver Crucifixes

target parking lot
7 a.m.
grabbed
and sent
with men
who climbed
the spine
of the americas
seven countries
in seven years
working
car washes
bakeries
brake shops
hair salons
delivered
to a city of stone
and metal
outside of time
and there are
people at podiums
with silver crucifixes
swinging over
their chests
demanding
to make it
their final
destination

Ghosts Are Intervening

 

ghosts are intervening

they overcome the sentry in your head
ghosts are intervening

they are playing the piano in your mind
ghosts descend upon the streets
ride the wires of the trolley into town
curl up inside the batteries of the electric bikes
ghosts are intervening
radio the forestry service
the trees are falling down
radio the oceanic institute
the starfish are meteoring
back up into the sky
ghosts are intervening
you've got no license to be sane
they say
the simple geometry of a snowflake
eludes you
they say
what is it that you want
they say

(If I remember correctly, the title and opening line are from a spoken word piece by Marcos Frommer from 1987)

(image: Rainbow Beach, Chicago, March 2025)

Dreams of the Elon

 

Flashlight shine through a tunnel
Of rebar and fallen timber
Ketamine breakdown
On the outskirts of Eden
X marks the spot
On the forehead of the enslaved
Link hands around the fountain flowing
The blood of the coal mine canaries
Seven oceans of the real have I sailed
Seven ship logs have I burned
In the furnace of my mind
To find myself beached upon the locks
Of the Panama Canal
Bridge my broken teeth with the locks
Of the Panama Canal
Ring the oceans with white daisies
Laced with ketamine and strychnine
Sound the trumpets
And bang the drums
Break out the hero's baton
Because I'm going down

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