(2014)
#Memories
A palomino gallops Beside the highway Look out the window Rides over green hills Through yellow flowers
Itchy It has to come off Nerves Makes me pick His look
Algunos me gusta compartir Calientitos Justo cuando salgan del horno Que no se enfríe Por eso lo escribí
The more you treat me like a nag The more I become one I’m sorry if I micromanage Your clean clothes Your hot meals
To be a true artist Must they be recluses Crazy mad or sick Or even better dead Show me a healthy artist
A noisy restaurant Listen Focus Beyond the dishes The music
The ugliest shade Of green We envy The car The job
I love to hear poetry read Rather than performed I love to hear each word Appreciated Rather than memorized
My heart breaks A little each day For problems I can’t solve For things I can’t change All I can do is pray
Antisocial tendencies Amplified by sickness I can people watch Yet I can’t people talk I am lonely
To be genius means To not follow the rules You don’t have to I wish to be smart But not self-important
My poems are short Written at night In my head I wake at dawn Shake my memory
It’s not that I’m sad Though I am It’s not that I’m discouraged Though I am It soaks deeper
My grandfather told my father when he proposed to my mother on one condition
Don’t talk down to me I am not a child! Even children Deserve respect