Time Is Dead

Yesterday's prayers wither like the hours
The hands fading out the crescendo of hope -
first day of school - seeds in soil
Today is new,
but it is stiff and numb

Caught in the grit of January
and sorely wanting April.


Saturday nights spread thickly
like lip gloss
A sheer, pink shade that shimmers
beneath the light
sending a violent heat wave
across the bar
trouble walked in with
and full lashes



made us stop
and take notice
made me wish

wish my breast could know the sun
the same way this girl
knows danger -
the way she plays with fire
Igniting flames in the snug parts of each man she passes
Inhaling the howls
and sipping on the heavy pants


I watch the
spectacle from afar
soaking in my own mire of insecurities and

How much that kind of freedom would cost...

On any given rainy day
How many pennies would i have to save
to buy that kind of power
with legs closed?

Bullets Over Hope Street

Bullets over Hope Street
Break like a rock against a window -
like goosebumps.
Bleed under a purple sky
And stroll to a busted beat.

Bullets over Hope Street
Smell like weed and bus pollution
Bitter like Old E
Ring like hungry spoons against empty plates
Speak with a Spanish accent
Sweet like the first cries of a baby
Hard like a cold park bench
yet as easy as a pill.

Bullets over Hope Street
Are long like welfare lines
As stale as the last slice of bread
Lurk like a stray cat
and shine like pennies on the ground.

Bullets over Hope Street
Sting like rage against minds
(the greatest minds you have ever known)
And sleep like island dreams
weighing heavily on the eyelids of viejitos.

Bullets over Hope Street
Release - fly like birds
And are the mothers -
the keepers of prayers,
for a different,
and brand new tomorrow.