it’s just the memory of the sky blue and maybe it only seemed so blue because it was the first time i no…
there once was a drop of water misplaced in the ocean that was meant for something more never belonging with other drops lost at sea
the Buk used to write about the va… hanging around the downtown Los A… looking around the library here on 8th & Rio Grande i think
sunlight makes love to the earth an orgasm of photosynthesis from the heat of their passion tulips are born
i dream of a world ruled by art where the letters that come in the mail are written in fingerpaints and tornado sirens sound off to th…
stopped by a red light engine sputters memories he goes with what’s gone
i entered into my junior high poet… with such a sense of excitement to share the craft that i had disc… just a couple years earlier a craft that my gramma had
Life is a series of tragedies with… But what is good for those who suf… than what is good for those who do… —for Brian Salvador Curley
now when I say “forever” I don’t mean too
Charles with his typewriter and bottles a bluebird held hostage in his hea… all the women he wanted all the jobs he didn’t
if you’ve show up to the poetry re… with no poems to read you better worry because you can’t go on stage with… so start looking for an exit
the friction ridges on his fingers are different than most where there are usually arches there are the shapes of broken hea… and laughing faces
i don’t believe anything i read unless it’s a poem
though it takes a daily muster of all you got empties you out and leaves you wanting
put a million miles between me and… shoes worn away from the journey i will arrive with toes calloused feet stained in earth and legs swollen