On Waking
and as many
hours the beauties of traveled sleep
     secret passageways opening into misplaced
              paradises,
I came here to meet you
to say hello,
to learn what happens when you say
     the word "love" and it gets
said back to you
              on
bathroom mirrors where the face
gets blurry
& the poem appears. no future is worth
     knowing more than this. I stretch out
under a
              blue
sky and put my hand through it
until yours
touches mine. your body reminds me of
     everything - it's a slippery universe,
the one
              happily
ever after I never planned for
Too Far From New Orleans
(Mexicali Blues)
by Paul Chasse and David Brinks
outside the guitar
and the mad maracas
                                   compete
with taxi poems
                           diesel
fumes
a whuff of the gulag
          permeates the
cabana
                          inside
-- beam & semen flow
              "I
don't care if it's a woman, a boy or a donkey"
a hole is just a hole
and that's what matters, baby
                                        and
on his red silk pillow
sits cupid preparing his knives - cheap red
dresses, soft white shoes
                                        12
hardons for a dollar
                              mota,
chiva
& tamales sharing mouths
montezuma dances snakes from a hole in his vein
hers, yours, any mouth   wrap your tongue around it
and lay the cornerstone
this steamy swamp
too far from new orleans
                             belching
mexicali
blues
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