Chromatic Hero Worship
For N. Kalamaris
a voice is a kerchief
of high tide
under my teeth
in the lie
in the ants’ nest of dream
rooms, on a line, in the shade
of wisdom
of the white Bible men
now, a line of rooms and
a bloody tongue of the soul
in the body’s reality
unfold the pleats of worlds
that tumble
in a rumble of the light blue
skyward fans
smooth surfaces like before the deluge
loneliness
fire of a black shadow
peaks of glances
a lightning bolt of strength
frenetic horses in the middle of a myriad
earth of three eyelids
ideal waning moon
I reign, stand, forget, remember
black man! Black man!
I row
I loot
oaths of anger by the tower
you painted your two friends
object made of metal and lava
the rest of the secret wall
scale of words, names
the bridge of
the great night
beautiful wife of opium
STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL
sin of love
pure, fiery sperm
patient, unsteady
steady
philosophical
excruciating
how musical, futile
void of thirst
automatic pyramid
rough seas
of lust
Libros Libertad 