Wednesday, April 27, 2016

eSa MonTaña

Ayer fue la de mi padre
63rd birthday.
(él es un tauro.)
Él no me conoce.
So what else is new?
Fathers do not know their daughters.
Sales clerks ask you your bra size,
favorite color, sun sign,
cash or debit or credit...?
Lovers know your scent.
Sometimes they know
your ice cream.
I once knew a man named Paul
but only in the King James biblical sense
which meant he was underlined,
marginalized, transmitted to
my Mercury in Pisces
via la palabra.
& God shall wipe away
all tears from
her eyes.
I can dig it.
I know that life
(not the stuff on nearest shelf)
is in the same category
as light
& radio waves
& sometimes, motherfucker,
shit resonates.
Solo se sube allí
en las montanas
de dolor primal.
Subo, también...
por lo que mi padre se le perdona.

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