Archive for August 7, 1993

Untitled Poem #169

Posted: August 7, 1993 in Poetry
Tags: , , , ,

we write poems when our tongues tie
together in my mouth, behind your lips;
unspoken words like unnoticed snow
in the shade of a tree in the high mountains.


Posted: August 7, 1993 in Poetry

Voy a mi casa a solas
porque necesito escribir poesia de tu
y pensar que si mi amor esta quebrada.
No es posible a pensar sin pensando de sus ojos
y que los miran en miyos.
No se que todavia estamos luchando.
Qure dire a ayudarte?
Tengo un gran pasion
a ver sus ojos lleno de amor por mi.
Ne se como vuelva al tiempo
cuando seramos alegres.

Tanya After Six Months

Posted: August 7, 1993 in Poetry
Tags: , ,

poor Tanya.
still nothing goes the way you plan it.
call me again from Fresno.
warn me that you’re returning
and that you don’t want to see me,
talk to me, hear from me
be cause I called your ex-boyfriend
[my friend]
after we fucked drunk
and I felt badly.
what were you using me for?
when were you going to tell him?
I’ve watched you use him for 3 years.
after you could no longer use each other
(he got tired of you like he was going to)
and you came to Santa Barbara
to get even by screwing a close friend of his,
I messed up your plan, didn’t I.
you were going to keep it as a nasty souvenier;
something to cherish as a little secret
and maybe mention in passing
just in case he was doing the same thing
to guard against you.