Charles Andres Alberto Poems

No hay montanas en el aire,
nada encima del viento;
Por lo que ves es fe pura,
y lo que oigas, un himno.
...

The wilted pedals on the Golden rose
flew away in the Autumn breeze.
They soared above the sun, and by the shore;
They carried themselves over the seas.
...

It is go time in the city
Where the road blocks topple down-
And are strewn about like legos
Round the corners of the town.
...

I will let him pull the trigger today,
and tomorrow and the next day.
I do not think much of this because
I have too many tricks in my bag.
...

I think it was there where the wind blew back
the straw covered village of leaves-

Or there, when Auntie Ro-Ro kissed a rose
...

The super sub-particle camel rags float in hoards toward my head.
And I am expecting a license to engage in a duel with these clouds
of moccasin sheep before the eventual Armageddon of
businessmen eat the custardy benefits of same-sex partnerships before speaking silent monologues in the box in the corner of
...

Circles of thought rising through the smoke-
Shall we listen to the the faint voices, coughing?
Drops of water, whispering-
And the wiser posterity, remembering
...

There, that- through the river-
He, whose face perturbed, despaired a splendor-
upon the quiet quail surrendered-
whose feathers flocked the fall of summer, utters:
...

That, over there, I looked at the river-
Smiling heely through the birch
And maybe coasted off the wayward march
And though arrived in giddy fashion-
...

I was bred by April in May,
And that was when the morning birds flew-
When the tugboat broke the ring of flowers in the bay.
...