14 June: I become a pink door

Days & Days

Quick sketch of plaza I love.  So long, tacos al vapor! 

.

14 June

Back in the land of baby carrots! 
This is the United States. 
“Cholesterol: Do your job!” 
“My birthday party only cost $100.” 
Poop in a crown. 



.

10 Junio

Vanned through some sad
cities, given over to companies,
how unlike compañia, compañero, 
we band who brakke bread and eat it. 
The 18th-century house is as 
it was: a pata de vaca tree
in its middle, some fish v fishy 
in a pond. The indoor/outdoor
division gone. My whole life here 
is good (I dream it). I become a pink door, 
a flowering vine, that hand-painted
cheery face on that hand-painted sign. 
We stop for a rap battle, a paleta.
In the plaza aging couples
are learning how to dance.



.

9 Junio
 
Hail! And hail of our lady! 
A rapids, down the callejones. 



.

8 Junio

They are poor jewelers,
they must sharpen the cardboard.
They are poor shoemakers,
they must hide under the statue
& scheme. “A lot of spies.”
“School.” “Perfect Girls,
because it’s so boring.”
“Teenagers.” “Animals.”
“Poor girls: we play 
that we have to get things.”



.

6 Junio

I wasn’t expecting the slow jams
at 6 am in the bus station 
in Guadalajara but I’m here for them
& the local custard that returns 
my dead grandmother to me. 
Give me some sugar, she would say
to Franny. To a baby, let me
love on your neck. 





P.S. Hello couple of new readers, what's up? I started posting sketches and daybook poems here while we were living in Mexico. We're back in the States now, slight yikes. My most recent work can be found here, here, here, and here. Fue un placer.