1 / 225


Start here: bend over
an open window, floor 4
that’s El Raval screaming
in la madrugada, asking
instead of praying like a slave.
I can feel you
listening, the vibrato
of a hive of bees, can you
choose your thoughts?
Don’t answer. I’ve been a blackbird
circling the temples of the soul,
mostly eyes and longing.
And then I appeared
inside la madrugada
of the mind and the blackbirds
around the temple spelled out
over that patient piece of sky.

1 Comment

Leave a footnote

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *