I slip out at night.
I risk my footsteps
and the shadow that
follows. I hope no
one trails to bring
curtains to my life.
Who will shut my eyes?
Who will shut my lips?
The breeze is a bullet
and also a flame.
AIR WALKING
Air walking in my absurd thoughts.
Air walking amongst the flock.
Shore so far away.
Brilliance farther still.
Summer comes to rest.
August sunlight upon my chest.
Page after page of dead poets I read.
Nothing pleases me more today.
LIGHTNING STRIKES
Lightning strikes
when I desire to be calm.
Your absence
makes me feel like dying.
Your voice is
a need I never thought I’d long for.
My wound heals
one ordinary day when I resigned
a love lost.
I lose patience quicker than most.
I ache for
the longing that has gone away,
for the voice forgotten.
BAD LUCK BIRD
It’s death that never breaks a promise. I hear the breaking
news at eleven. I see carnage
from my couch on my TV set.
These days I await my turn. I
am not amused by the bird
I shoo out of my bedroom
window. The bad luck bird made
its way inside. I have deep concern
and watch its flight intently. Is
its song leading death to me?
LET IT SINK IN
Think and let it sink in,
the dog chasing its own tail,
dancing skeletons nibbling on bones,
humans killing the air, earth, and sea,
brains damaged purposely,
lives lived in agony,
but it still gets a lot worse,
heavenly creatures so far away,
turning a blind eye on earth,
where will we go when we are gone?
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
A LOT OF MESS
—Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal
I had not one
thing to say.
I kept my lip
and mouth shut.
My eyes spoke a
lot of mess.
They always give me away.
__________________
—Medusa, with many thanks for the lightning flashes of Luis Berriozabal’s poetry today, and for his sassy calendar drawings!
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
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Just remember:
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