Twenty-Third Hour
As the sea rebels and the wind
refuses to calm you take my hand
guiding me to your sofa for our
sweet entanglement under
evening vespers of Eros and
a marigold that withers in the hands
of a north wind faint gardenia smile
goes south like a hummingbird
limp penis of the old man
by her flattened breast
western light penetrates
gaps between the river reeds
images of diverse
detachment are consequential
banal structures that blink on the
foggy horizon of escaped
logic from His whims plethora
of shapes and edicts new
sophisticated font letters adorn shiny
treasonous wisdom and totally eclipsed sense
for dichotomy of ideals with new opposites
with new colors and flags with
new stars that I observe holding
my brush before my palette
waiting for the last stroke hand
hovering an image as vague
and undefined as His whim
playing Keep-Away and Catch in cloud privacy
when poor bastards
hack one another up and old
Death can’t keep pace with the demand
He is caressing the laughing ladybug
and leaves his tie undone
inventing homoousian
holocaust hyphenated dross for
philosophers turned merchants
asking the same question and
ancient dogma of the ghetto
hollers: who cares?
Libros Libertad 