acapulcoblues

sunset ad infinitum


the weeds are high, sour words reign, and
aggregations of blues smile from lofty seats
of mingling ungroundedness that never
condescend to make my acquaintance

unreverend judgments cloud my duplicity
of the unending intrachanges in rose.

but at night i dream

they are the days of no-night
stretched, uncanny

I am the stepping stone
my eyes laden with the worn
bits of gravel, from the many
that have traced this path

they are the finches
& I am tomorrow

they come with the falling steps
yet I stay

the lilting calls they utter
do not bring me

they, the needle
I, the junkie
fixing me,
infecting...
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these are the products of my fingers:
silence, of sorrow and indulgence
echoing days, labyrinthine in layers
a sweet syrup, bubbling up from
the kissing sunlight I have seen, I have captured

do not ask for much else for I
come from the fig tree

oh Mother! baring strange fruit
Under sanguine suns
Trees, their leaves are falling
Over long buried roots in sifted
soils....
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