Monday, September 4, 2017

A Puente over Troubled Water

Jackie Lopez

I think that magic has filleted me on the stove.

I think that justice has surprised me with a stone.

I think that I shall yell at the dresser and cling to my shoes of despair.

I know how to hold out my hand in prayer.

I never give an orgasm without permission.

I find a place to call my own on the moon of my intentions.

I must continue my education in the house of the rising winds.

I have accosted a young and innocent man.

He must lick his wounds and have his orgasms.

When I was thunder and lightning, I watered the garden of other’s discontent.

I will be stealing the show on the oceanographer’s school of emancipation.

I have learned my lessons in the back alleys of my troubadour tears.

I have learned to keep my mouth shut in front of alien forces.

I took the avenue of disbelief and became a believer.

You have wrapped your strings around my heart and your drum in my bracelets.

I think that I will punish your grievances.

I take to matrimony like an anointment on a flower.

You shall remain my secret in the secret houses of my fornications.

I promise to clean your teeth with a prophet’s toothbrush.

Your songs are the weapons of the angels.

I am the devil in your gospel choir.

Please don’t give me away to the thousand horses on my leash.

You can call me wetback, but I will never let you down.

I love you very much!

Poem to the guitarist from the Gypsy in love.

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