Monthly Archives: November 2017

373

A bright water ring on a black ash sky, stained gray by the twilight and streaked by cloud, guides me as I move away from the crowd which might make me suffer or make me die. The air is moist, … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized, Urban Sonnets | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

372

The smell of sweat that pours from every pore, detoxifying flesh subject to work, a brief escape from life where guidelines lurk in every shadow and at every door. New England was my home for years before New Jersey, where … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized, Urban Sonnets | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

371

The days pass by like daggers in the breeze while nights sink low into the muddy ground caressed by deer that stalk without a sound at dawn to eat the leaves that hang from trees. The sidewalks look yellow and … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized, Urban Sonnets | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

370

I want to live a timeless existence. This life of time will kill my sense of self. If not my my mind will mutilate itself: suicide of a heart shorn of patience. I’m serious. I’ve lost my sense of sense … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized, Urban Sonnets | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

369

The desire to run has re-entered my body; should I also be surprised that words have come back whole and mobilized from foreign thoughts, fluid and de-centered? I long for novel thoughts that flow un-mentored by past experience, destabilized by … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized, Urban Sonnets | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

368 (Originally 355)

If the taxista, Don Jesús, was right, our planet simply recycles itself as we perish, congealed in amber bright island sun and time slide off the clouded shelf. Timeshares for me? I’m just chillin’, hermano, I just want to kick … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

367

I must ask myself, who are my people, by whom do I define this life’s journey, on the mezzo cammin’ up the steep hill, who must climb with me, who should concern me? Is tribe defined by family connection or … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized, Urban Sonnets | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment