<That last decade was nothing —
you are nothing,
& I don’t want you in my park anymo’>.
But…
<¡Butt!>
No Mo’ Credits ( HASTA VIAJAS A AQUEL LUGAR A QUE NO PUEDES VOLVER )
2017 July 5
Posted in Poetry
Waiting for Summer to End Yet ‘Gain ( ME SENTABA POR EL OCÉANO Y BEBÍA LA POCCIÓN CHICA BORRARTE )
2017 June 5
& I don’t e’en mind this time—
stuffy hair-ridden jacket
with itchy zippers,
sticky bottom lip stuck with slivers.
Time races
with feet glued to gooey tarmack,
trapped for dour hours in shiny hot cracks.
¿Why keep the pinecones
you don’t e’en play with no mo’?
¿& why dream o’ snowcones in the sun?
When the icy moon melts every revolution.
Dusty pages make me wheeze,
red eyes in white heat
in hellish darkness swarm
maggot-colored fireflies.
Through the round looking glass stained
with wasp guts
becons light
leading down the well
to a heaven
scientifically proven by Dr. Healey
to be hotter than hell.
You’re just losing focus ’gain.
¿Why can’t you bloom on ruby gin
like the rest o’ them,
like the best o’ them?
¿When’d I e’er have the crystal?
It’s clear.
It’s clear.
puts down_glass
puts_down glass
puts_down_glass
I feel the cobwebs on my face
as if the past few threads had been erased.
Wipe the wine right off your face
& spit the stale grapes from your taste
& find a better palette with which to paint.
…
Maybe ’nother day…
This mer soleil is great, though;
sitting back as the waves foam,
tittering as your white blanket
takes me to sunnier pines.
& I haven’t been minding this entire time.
Posted in Poetry
This doesn’t compute
2017 May 29
While the sun still burns my flesh,
say, “This doesn’t compute”.
Done.
( cond ( ( under-the-sun? this ) ( error "doesn’t get here" ) ) )
2017 May 22
(
define
( on-and-on text )
(
define
been-done
( string " has been done already" )
)
(
string-append
text
( on-and-on been-done )
)
)
(
display
(
on-and-on
( string "This" )
)
)
LA SEUL CHOSE QUE JE COMPRENDS C’EST COMMENT JE ME SENS
2017 May 15
The only
itchiness I like
is orange juice.
Posted in Haiku, Senryu y amigos, Poetry
O’er
2017 May 8
The final pluck o’ the clover—
I love naught.
Tie the knot.
In gray matters,
the last stem has already been severed.
Too weak to pull the weakest levers.
What a pusho’er;
now it’s o’er.
Posted in Poetry
DIJO QUE LLEVA EL NUEVO DISPARAN AL TIEMPO PRIMO
2017 April 26
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The Shot that Was Not
2017 April 3
You ‘scaped my camera eye this time,
my lovely waxing-gibbous morning moon,
by making its battery run out o’ time
just in time.
But next time…
La Tiranía de 2017
2017 April 2
Nadie se engaña esta vez.
a DRY poem
2017 March 5
def is_is ( what )
"a #{ what } is #{ is_is what }"
end
puts is_is "rose"
Posted in Haiku, Senryu y amigos, Poetry
