(2015)
A palomino gallops Beside the highway Look out the window Rides over green hills Through yellow flowers
La presión atrapada Busca por donde salir Tapo mi boca Se me sale por los ojos Tapo mis ojos
I love to hear poetry read Rather than performed I love to hear each word Appreciated Rather than memorized
I am unique In so many ways But while variety excites What we look for Is our common thread
My soft spot My sweet boy I’d do anything for Who convinced me Little boys are the best
Why can’t I choose to be somewhere in the middle? Surrounded by extremes Measure everything With a grain of salt
A healthy pancreas Is like a transmission Seamlessly shifting gears In type 2 diabetics Wear and tear
I struggle to Keep it together Maxims and mottoes On repeat In my mind
Beautiful legs The right shape and curve Olive color without the green That tans and doesn’t burn Until you see
To love reading Writing and words And not be able to Communicate Frustrated
To be a true artist Must they be recluses Crazy mad or sick Or even better dead Show me a healthy artist
You must commit To an outfit Where are you going? In sporty yoga pants Athletic top
Bags full of diapers Cars waiting in line Smell coming from the load Ashamed it was mine He noticed my insulin pump
Dime ¿Qué es su lengua materna? Ni inglés Ni español Sus padres no hablan inglés
I crave stability Neither wandering spirit Nor home-body Yes I’d love to travel But the foundation