Jaime Guerra Poems

The man forbade me to go out
He says I'm sick, not allowed
to get out of bed either.
I keep staring at the insignificant shadows in my room.
...

A tiresome effort to reconstruct life
out of debris and meat and pure nerve
out of unstimulating circumstances.
...

Who called you up?
Who mistook you for a musician?
Who told you you could play the drums?
Could you have been a soloist?
...

Staring out the window and
In appearent surprise
Two elderly women
Stand motionless side by side
...

Soaked in sweat
walking on a Bible
black polyester pants
smell of green heat
...

I saw two sleeping horses
lying beside each other
mother and son
her neck caressed his
...

It seems rotten
the way you grab a notebook
write into it, then get another
somehow you never finish
...