The Incident

Love Poetry, Poetry

Her eyes crashed
like two truck drivers
speeding down Interstate 15
with mine.

They collided.
And her blood rushed
like an ambulance
to the scene of her cheeks,
lighting the boundaries
of her embarrassment.

I stood crushed
by her loveliness.


Love Poetry, Poetry

So here we are again.
Alone with our thoughts and
the samba gently playing in the
background flavoring the mind
in red pulses of heat, orange drapes
and that sweet jamaica taste of
your neck, I kiss, you grin.
And we slowly slow down as Rúben Blades
takes over the track.

Tan, tan, clíc, tan

El filo de mi lengua saborea
el sudor caribeño que brota
en el aire,
and you, mi amor,
sigues llamándome a descansar.

I dance along the wood floor
carving into my bare feet the
recuerdos de tu amor
along the hallway.
I pull you to dance
and you’re not there.

I see you every now and then
at the bakery ordering guava-cheese
and I keep walking by,
no me quieres ver anymore, cariño
but you do.
I know you do.
In those moments when Pérez Prado
adorns your kitchen walls on Sunday
like church in our young days.

Salsa fresca and plátanos fritos
don’t taste the same to you
since then
so you annex them in that box
you created for me,
papeleado with confetti
and manteca Farmer John’s
because your vegan ways can’t
take that anymore either.

You gleam when I dance.
Gleam like that subtle upper
lip sweat I drew
when Tito played and we stayed
like crows in the night
dancing our heads and
caressing our speech
singing through oceans of orgasms
and fingertips.
That was a beautiful October night
that the Santa Ana’s made
with clear skies and that wildfire
moon. It was like the world knew.

We were over; you
had to go home.

Salsa Fresca

Love Poetry, Poetry

Her shoulder blades
dance together
as she slices a tomato.

I sit at the table
tapping my spoon to my heart beat.

Click, click.
Click, click.

Her hips sway as salt, pepper, and cilantro
meet diced tomatoes, onions, and peppers.

Click, click, click, click

The small of her back arches as
she struggles to squeeze a lemon
the way it does when I run my hand down her spine.

Clickclick, clickclick.

The tops of her shoulders become glazed with juice,
like those moments after our late nights
in July.


she stops
turns around
and frowns


Love Poetry, Poetry

when I consider Your heavens, the work
of fingers, moon and stars shine
exploding in sulfuric red dust and
mind ash spreading
into grey oblivion

when I consider Your earth, the work
of eons of patience, canyons and deserts
widen like Her eyes
at the sight of You

I wish my body could take Her
and again

when I consider the body You gave Her
that mind that fits my patchwork
my heart crushes my abdomen
and I wish for a new soul to live
up to Her’s and Your prophets’

in those moments it hurts
to have once lost
Faith in You

Dogma de Fe

Love Poetry, Poetry

Dios, nunca pensé
que me
fueras dar
vida, cariño, amor, merced. Nunca
lo sentí. Y

ahora entiendo que
es mi misión
servirte. Es mi
entendimiento que soy
un arma de fuego por ti.
Un AK-47 tirando
balas y quemaduras
por ti. Descargaré

en tu nombre,
Señor, sobre las ruedas
del mundo monocromático y
lo bañaré de colores del cielo en alba,
lo esculcaré y pintaré
mi nombre igual como el tuyo
y juntos amaremos a nuestros semejantes
como amamos hoy
los perros,
fieles a sus maestros. Soy

tu bendición y
eres el mío.

Ella lo es también.

Ella pronuncia tu nombre,
y me enseñó hablar
tu idioma,
idioma de dogma,
idioma de fe,
idioma de pálpitos
del corazón, hipo
de bebé, y repeticiones
de carros nauseabundos.
Lo bueno de la vida

es ella, y tu
y yo
lo sabemos.
Lo sabemos como
sabemos cuales muertos
ruegan por nosotros,
ruegan por sus madres,
ruegan por vidrios empañados con
carteles de cloroformo. Dios

santo y sagrado, me dijiste
en un sueño que eres
el poeta, y
te lo creí. Ahora

dime, ¿cuáles son
tus favoritas palabras?

Dirty Licks and Love Notes

Love Poetry, Poetry

And while the seasons
extend into
each other we extend
into another, forming
bridges of sweat, arms and
legs, lip smacking and
sucking kaleidoscope into
your skin and mine tainting
sections of purity with my defects
and your insecurities, purging
each others sciences as foreign
waste matter, solid blues and golds.

Your eyes clear pain
in my presence. You’re salty
mi amor. You’re salty
and fine and soft. Hips
curving and embracing
my mind as thighs of strength
wrap around my brain squeezing
candid thoughts, dirty
licks and love notes in
poetry from my godless mouth.

I worship you and pray to my saints
thanking them
for the opportunity of our courtship.