prosperpina & the gates

pawed the dim shorts I

did nor spun the dam

pness in my ear the

fount of clouds was

poems of bacon smoke

blue light flashing on

my pen I cccraw

eddd the samwich

thinning in my pocket

,off ,off  .beach of

kleenex in the stream

)))where that dog’s 3

heads bowed and w

aited round the bend

...los estuarios donde desembocas.

- Rubén Bonifaz Nuño

  

popoca

shapeless ,inusitado ,de

túmulos fornido el urbe

de pirámides con su laundry

& luncheonettes ,shapely

and buried ,from the tongues’

saliva literate the field

of statues awaiting the

corn the whirling sky the

cave speaking instructions

which burn in the corner

,with spiders and manuals

the former foundations

revered  .itzpetzli in its

smoke reveals ,the quart

ered river flowing from dawn

  

low beam

my muddy hand my

lum inessence plowed

and necked the spoon

,of viscous light ,up to

your mouth ,if th

oughtless ,hesitates

,like thought ,or lun

ch impaction sock

.what my digits’ held

,a tube or brush ,b

loody gland my py

resplendence hatless

in ,of dog food aisle ,the

glare  .proud bedecked

the gloom you sucked

,yr tumescent sight

  

moche doing nothing

to last ,in the spoon

of coal dust built ,tossing

and sweaty ,the spider

decapitator in your cent

er’s plate it’s ,from the

sea’s garúa learning my

leg  .its last broom

knows ,its spattered

sweater of lenses wove

,what sees you ,on the f

lushing throne ,seated

.your circled half hat

gleaming in the dark

bath’s room