Windsor Guadalupe Jr Poems

The city slumbers in
A rivulet of fire

The street lights were prying
...

I hear a squawk from the distance,
And the early predators
Lurching endlessly with their footsteps
Billowing in the clouds that bellow.
...

In the carouse
Of death and liquor
The hands of a woman with
A sepulchral lacquer
...

Siphon the sapid filth
From the orifices
And they have bludgeoned
The nail beds
...

I was asked,
As I was idle on the bed
That sprawled like latticing fingers,
That encumbered me like locks and keys,
...

This lad,
Iron-clad,
Was once a lovely
Dash of virility
...

State of being: empire of the thousand Suns,
What of it, this feigned stance of the synthetic supercilious?
The Sun is famished – disengaging the ties
With the uncouth stars of carnal physique
...

Have you seen
A tree bend numerous times
To the strafing velocity
Of the wind?
...

But the thought of participating
Annoys me
Like a rascal pulling my pants
In front of an orchestra
...

He was still there,
Waiting for his some sort
Of acquittal or something
Or maybe he was just there
...