WORDS
I suppose it was my studies and subsequent master's in Latin American literature that led me to where I am today. My prose reflects the descriptions of Garcia Marques and the twists of Borges's plots.
…with apologies to Camilo Jose Cela
This building sits
four stories high,
across a river unfathomable,
across waters far and wide.
Sixteen arches stare
on lovers,
paupers
and those uncared.
Every night,
burning embers ignite
in windows jaundice with disdain
for a world from which they refrain.
In summer sweats
and winter freezes,
they ignore
what they should not forget.
A river dividing
rich from poor
brings a tide of which
they remain unsure.
Pear shaped, I’m an avocado in water. Bottom heavy, I turn sideways with a gentle push. Time and emptiness have left me wrinkled, like a ripe raisin drying in the sun. But those rays have mellowed me
Lines in parallel verge to perspective vanishing into a midpoint, they blind left from right. Lines run in strides separating friend from foe, like walls of thunderstorms ripping through a summer sky.
The sun sets Sugar sweet, Muffled breezes bring Vaporous resonances. Mists drift In waves of cool, While the night Unspools. Morpheus crawls along The water docks And unlocks The sleeper's dreams-- Un