Somehow I want to warn her
Although she may not be a stranger
To being whitewashed
In a man's liquids
And the click-of-the heels logic
Of women, as if
One's whole damaged life
Can be bounced from a mirror
In and to all women
Like an SOS.
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Sculpting of Winds
It was as if certain people came in. Those disliked
were
Disregarded and the rest kind of circled in and out
But at the time in and a small period out were
associated with
And considered part of that person's reality by
himself
The way a cat brushes against certain familiarities
Agreeable enough as it goes for its meal,
And so I befriended places.
Saltillo in Mexican mountains when the land shivers in
shadow
And the sun stretches through the air and beyond it
With an intent to overpower what is closer to man--
The River-walk and the Alamo and between both where
A Philipino in green shorts eats the grass
Where sidewalk and road intersect. There is a city
where I
Thought I could find myself less lonely,
And so I have returned home.
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