Hit Title Date Added
Before you became a cloud, you were an ocean, roiled and
murmuring like a mouth. You were the shadow of a cloud
crossing over a field of tulips. You were the tears of a
Mexican in France
He says he likes Mexico.
Especially all that history.
That's what I understand
Old Maids
My cousins and I,
we don't marry.
We're too old
My Wicked Wicked Ways
This is my father.
See? He is young.
He looks like Errol Flynn.
Good Hotdogs
Fifty cents apiece
To eat our lunch
We'd run
Arturito the Amazing Baby Olmec Who is Mine by Way of Water
Arturito, when you were born
the hospital gasped when
they fished you from your fist of sleep,
Your name doesn't matter.
I loved you.
We loved.
Black Lace Bra Kind of Woman
Wachale! She's a black lace bra
kind of woman, the kind who serves
up suicide with every kamikaze
One Last Poem For Richard
December 24th and we're through again.

This time for good I know because I didn't
Bay Poem from Berkeley
Mornings I still
reach for you before
opening my eyes.

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6/23/2021 12:03:54 PM #