That bright star in the night
tonight glows full
becomes a KGB questioning spotlight
that not even the bull can escape.
Your unforgettable face
branded on my memory
follows me wherever I go.
I try to run away from the beautiful pain
walking down the sidewalk of life
hoping to trip on the answers
or on my broken question.
Looking for a manhole escape exit
or deadly trap under my feet
anything to take me back
to take me there
to Bach's BWV ten forty three
largo ma non tanto.
To where your hammock breasts
put me to sleep in your chloroform curls
as your hands cover my dreams in candy wrappings
melting me, like caramel
in you warm, tender lips.
That's what I mean when I say
your mouth is gateway to insanity
that you're an angelical demon
when we make a Miró on my bed.
The reflection of perfection
in a concave mirror
the zebras you paint on my back
the leopard prints I bite on your thighs
oceans of oceans of pleasures and broken fingernails
lenghts and miles and dusks and dawns and there's no measure
as we fuck in metronomes
and make love in bone crushing marble floors
when pillows are marshmallows
and tickles are thorns
when you become my world
and everything worth living for.
Cuernavaca, Mexico. Circa 1990
Just another boring day... I'm 21 years old, hanging out at the Mall with a couple of friends from college, looking for nothing and everything, walking down the cold, marble floors, when I suddenly saw her...
Pretty, but not beautiful, slim but not skinny, dark hair, brown eyes, about 5.5', in her late thirties, sporting a black and white dress, high heels and a matching jacket, very Chanel. She was sitting on one of the benches by the kiosk. She had been for at least an hour, when I finally decided to approach her.
I wasn't expecting to get lucky, but if I did it would be perfect, since my parents had left on a long trip to Brazil and I was home alone.
I was willing to ignore my mother's rule of not to bring women over, but in an attempt to avoid an argument I decided to bring this lady home in secrecy.
My parent's house sat at the end of a big estate, the gardener and his family lived at the entrance and the garages where at the end of a cul de sac, next to the pool. I remember explaining this to my new conquest, as I helped her climb inside the trunk of my car... I will never forget my mates, laughing in complete disbelief, staring down at us from a window at the mall.
"Pluonk" I shut the trunk and drive off to my place. Then expectation began to build, ah! my favorite roller coaster. Heart rushing, hands sweating, I have condoms in the glove box, I remember that, then I go over my poorly planned plan all over again in my mind, and I know I'm going to roast this chicken, when suddenly ..."Screech" slam on the brakes to not run a red light. I'm definitely nervous, and I can't wait to make it home. A few more minutes down the road and here we are... I open the gate and drive through the gardener's house... no one there.
I drive down the cul-de-sac and park my car, I get out and walk casually, look down the rest of the yard, a green carpet with palm trees on the edges, then down to the swimming pool, splashed with pink and red bougainvillea around it, making sure the coast is clear. Damn it, who cares? so I open the trunk and this poor woman seems a bit shaken, I give her a hand and gently start helping her out, but when she has one foot on the floor and one foot in the trunk I suddenly feel a rush to the head, that energy, goose bumps down my spine, cold air, someone behind me is staring at me...
"Pablo" - my mother yelled out loud
I turn around in disbelief to see my mother standing there, also in disbelief
"What is THAT?" - she yelled, questioning in anger and disappointment
.
"a spare" - I reply, in a soft voice, as my new friend finally made her way out of the trunk.
My friend and I ended up at a motel, and until this day my mother has not forgiven me. Not for breaking the rules (which I always have) but the sarcastic remark was too much for a supporter of the feminist movement in a global scale.
I never saw this woman again after that day, she was married and I didn't want any trouble. But I do think of her from time to time, particularly when I have a flat.
Acapulco, Circa 1992
It was late December, the cold, dirty air in Mexico City began cooling down and I decided to visit my dad in Acapulco, Manuel "Tum Tum" decided to join and so we boarded a bus and before we knew it we were on our way. My old man, uncommonly tall, slim and overly suntanned, greeted us warmly. I had longed for his deep voice and sarcastic Wit. Tum Tum couldn't help but stare at the earrings and deep blue eyes of my nordic old sea wolf dad. After settling in the house and eating breakfast we headed to the yacht, an 41" 2 mast sky blue and navy blue Morgan Catalina Class, anchored at the yacht club and that was the head start for another irresponsible vacation in A-trap-ulco.
New Years Eve and I'm sporting a sand color linen suit, a white silk shirt and moccasins. We had ticket's to a party at the "Daily Planet" discotheque, a very 80's comic book place with no character whatsoever where we were sure to pick up a couple of bad girls and drink half the open bar while dancing and bump and grinding to Technotronic and Simple Minds. So we did, nothing like a night club with fuschia couches and curtains, go figure. Midnight and we are toasting with pink champagne on plastic flutes, dancing and drunk as construction workers, fun.
I think it was 4am when we walked out of that place, tum tum had a bottle of Hornitos and I had a bottle of Chivas... so we went, walking down the Costera Avenue, stoned drunk, drinking straight from the bottle, to a Luau on the beach at the Plaza (where I would marry many years later).
It wasn't really a party, maybe about 20 people and 2 bonfires, some smoking pot, some swimming. I sat down on the beach, by the entrance to the pool, drinking scotch until I passed out and the lights turned off.
I'm dreaming that I am a calzone in an oven... I can't move, I'm sweating, it's is so hot in here and ...I can't move.. I CAN'T MOVE!!! and I wake up and open my eyes.
The sun is a ball of fire, burning right above me, which tells me it's around 10am... I'm still at the beach, at the Plaza, it's new years day and I am completely surrounded by girls in their swimming suits and guys playing beach sports and this place is packed, it's overcrowded and I still can't move, that's when I realize I'm buried in the sand, up to my neck.
The folks exchanging Coppertone next to me became mildly bewildered to see, (as I began to uncover myself from the sand) that I was actually wearing a suit, which after being under the moist sand now looked more like paper mache or some vegetable long forgotten in the bottom shelf of the fridge. My silk shirt looked more like a mop and my Nunn Bush moccasins where nowhere to be found. So there I was, on all fours, digging in the sand looking for my shoes. On new years day almost close to noon, at one of the World's most famous resorts... I can't remember any other time in my life when I made so many people laugh at the exact same time.
I eventually found my shoes, walked in the Hotel, got a room and went back to sleep.
My dignity still remains buried, somewhere in Acapulco Beach.
...I keep a Moët et Chandon in a pretty cabinet....12 grapes and a brand new set of Armani red underwear for when the clock hits midnight....you do the same or whatever it is that you do, but raise your glass at midnight, I will have mine up high.
Sorry about the music, but today merits a playlist, I hope you like.
2008 has been a good year for me, I'm an extremely lucky man and I can't complain about a thing. This month was my 7th year anniversary at work, made new friends, kept writing and was able to stay tobacco free. I also visited my Mom in Mexico and paid off my Chase card (bastards). But overall I learned that at 34 I can no longer live or get by on Hungry Man, which has brought a change on my eating habits and my focus on deeper spirituality growth will reach an apex since next month I'll be enrolled on Pole Dancing lessons (at last, so many people's dream come true). Yes, here at Bull fo Brougham we listen to your feedback dear readers, we might even begin a HFNT (half fat nekid Tuesday)... kidding
It was an amazing year: we were witnesses at how to offend the whole female population of a country simultaneously (Sarah Palin), we resurrected an old war hero from the dead (John McCain), we finally put O.J. Simpson in jail, we unearthed Cheney's blatant corruption and favoritism, got Bush to declare himself openly unaccountable, witnessed Zardari substitute Musharraf and David substitute
Fidel, if Che Guevara was alive he would have a show in Vegas or participating in the Celebrity Survivor Compton. We found millions of empty plastic coffins, had Marines and contractors tie a bunch of men by their wee weees and then had them fum ball in front of the cameras, yes, in Abu Graibh. We finally legalized water boarding and saw Santa's North Pole home be foreclosed. We also kissed good bye hundreds of thousands of jobs and Billions of dollars, we ignored Alberto Gonzalez' lies and amnesia and Maury is still on tv, thank you. We also saw the three largest American Car Manufacturers claiming bankruptcy as well as some 21 banks. So other than a couple of Shopping Mall shootings and an Alaskan Senator charged with corruption it went pretty uneventful. We uncovered the corruption this government has done in conjunction with companies like Blackwater and Halliburton. Oh and we elected Obama and that was so Historical that we will be remembered as the people who believed in change, for good or for ill.
My predictions for 2008:
Stock on canned soup, bottled water, batteries, flashlights, radios and medicines... in case things get as worse as they seem to be heading towards.
Damn it Wiwille and Miss A... here's mine:
What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
I wore a condom (kidding, I've done this once before)
Did you keep your New Years' resolutions and will you make more for next year?
I did, I quit smoking
I will hit the gym, start working on my degree and I'm also writing a book for which I expect to be chased by a mob of villagers with torches and shit.
The title? you really want to know the title? fine
"Bitchslap"
Did anyone close to you give birth?
No births, just abortions...
Did anyone close to you die?
Yes, remembering Julian Boldo
What countries did you visit?
Mexico
What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
Better health
What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Seeing Jorge and Marco Velez, cause they are my adoptive brothers and I hadn't seen them in decades
What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Giving people information and seeing them vote decidedly.
What was your biggest failure?
Hmmm, not withdrawing my 401k in time
Did you suffer illness or injury?
Yup, ended up at the E.R. and at the cardiologist a couple of times
What was the best thing you bought?
A night at a hotel
Whose behavior merited celebration?
Dennis, he has overcome one hell of a year.
Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
No Comments
Where did most of your money go?
Other people
What did you get really, really, really excited about?
A pair of black cheek... : |
Compared to this time last year, are you: Happier or sadder? Thinner or fatter? Richer or poorer?
I am miserable, obese and insanely wealthy, and I never lie.
What do you wish you'd done more of?
I didn't dance nearly enough Watusi as I wanted to.
What do you wish you'd done less of?
I wish I had dealt with less Tangos (drama)
Did you meet/date anyone special in 2008?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and... oh yes.
...and yes.
How many one-night stands?
One, right? that's why it's called ONE NIGHT?
What was your favorite TV program?
Countdown with Olbermann
Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Not anymore, I've taken that power back
What was the best book you read?
Sadly enough I didn't read a single book this year.
What was your greatest musical discovery?
Hercules and Love Affair.
What was your favorite film of this year?
2 dogs and a bowl of eukanuba
What was your favorite birthday present?
“Lono - thanks Lauren”
What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Being a gentleman is fucked up sometimes I tell you... again, no comments
What kept you sane?
Lorazepam
Who was the best new person you met?
Kenya
Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008.
Soy, not milk
Again I'm sticking my hand in the cookie jar
acrobat on the kitchen's stool
balancing between life and death
suspended in the air
now glued to the sticky linoleum floor
It feels like hunger
but it's just angst
It seems like insomnia
but it's just my mind
and my empty hands reach out
to nothing but air
nothing but the ghost of you
on my tight chest
that you don't kiss
or bite
It's not the winter
the reason for my chapped lips
and you've never heard that song
you wouldn't understand
I'm just a little boy
dazed and confused
in the carousel of names
and eyes and hands and people
in the mannequin treadmill
watching life depart
infomercial after infomercial
empty
like a bag of peanuts
on any commercial flight
like an empty raft
in the middle of the pacific ocean
only the fireflies glow
after this love
there's nothing left of me.
We don't seem to do much for one another these days, much less go up on a cross and die for someone else's mistakes and never to seek forgiveness for them. We don't seem to write books about anyone spiritually real, instead celebrity and fame are achieved through botched elections, corruption, wealth, bad music, or the capability of throwing a ball in a hoop.
We don't seem to walk a path of love, instead we stray in the highway of lust, decadence, ignorance and selfishness.
Will we be judged? why not? we keep judging one another all the time, some stalking, some complaining, some making a myspace soap opera and some just downright being idiotic narrowminded racist, xenophobic, homophobic or classist pigs. Please, don't make me remember that I also lie, and think of sin and hate particularly those who hate our freedom and the path to Heaven through the love and forgiveness of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Some of us won't turn the other cheeck.
Some of us won't welcome you with bread and wine.
Some of us make crosses and crowns of thorns.
I think you've heard us, we're the ones who dropped the bombs.
God will forgive us, for defending our children
Jesus will guide us, and we can't silence His name.
Merry Christmas
Remember it is someone's birthday we celebrate today
His birthday
and Our birthday for being born again, born in the Lord, Jesus Christ
All the reasons I have to prove that Jesus isn't real, are crazy.
All the reasons I have to prove that Jesus is real, are even crazier.
For it isn't without fear that I love Jesus
and we will strike with all might
cause we will never be victims of your extremist creeds
cause we will no longer be terrorized
cause we will defend our land and our Bible and the Lord
Holy Virgin Mary
Keep us in your womb
Bless our troops, may they soon deliver
a fucking nuclear bomb
Amen.
(Yes I'm kinda chaotic catholic and christian confused, chase me with a wafer)
Some people have a double life
a pseudonym
or nome de guerre
like a sword
two sides, both sharp
Some of use went down the rabbit's hole
to encounter ourselves in another movie
another book
or someone else's arms
behind the curtain call
or sitting at the end of the bar
maybe quietly at the coffee shop
or around the corner
living at night in the shadow play
Honestly, if you were invisible
wouldn't you do something you shouldn't?
if you could time travel
you would go anywhere but now
and if you knew they would never find you
would you dissappear?
think of the crystal ball
the nails on your back
hands that squeeze your wrists
time and time again
as you lay covered by a sunbeam of lips
would you?
drink that old bottle in the wine cellar
like an avid vampire
or bathe in the porcelain tub
and book a room in a fancy hotel
honestly
would you sin and live the dream?
escape from the cage
or lock yourself in?
some of us live a double life
and the one you see is half
just a half
of what we really are
but you won't do something you wouldn't
and that is why you are invisible
a few years from now
it won't really matter
or will it?
Buenos Aires, Argentina - Circa 1987
Living in Brazil as a tourist required I leave the country every six and three months, not for very long, in about 48 hours I usually got my passport stamped and then I was welcome to enter the samba nation once more. This constant traveling allowed me to become more than familiar with Sao Paulo, Montevideo, Foz do Iguazu, Ciudad Stroessner and other South American cities. On this occasion my Mom and my step dad decided to join me at the Argentinian Capitol for a short vacation.
Buenos Aires is somber and very euro barroque, when compared to other cities of the Latin American cone it is glam and simply put is the classiest.
It's a beautiful and romantic town, the immense Rio de la Plata inlet and the old part of the City, particularly Barrio del Boca evokes Maradona, the Quilmes Soccer Squadra and the inevitable group of kids whistling tangos.
If you pay close attention you may spot Gardel's ghost, wandering around town on a Saturday night, hidden in an oxford grey cashmere coat. It was in this city of tangos, of romantic temper tantrums where I saw her for the first time: sitting on a couch at the lobby as I entered the hotel.
Blond like golden hay under the hard country sun on a hot summer day, green eyes like an emerald jade washed on Botafogo beach, like a sacredly cat, frightened and shy, yet ready to pounce. High cheeks and a curvy plumped devilish body of a Marilyn Monroe at fifteen. I still remember her as if I had seen her yesterday.
Her eyes were on me like mine on her, we spoke of nonsense and from that moment on we fell in an urgent and immediate hurricane of teen love. We spent every second of every moment of every sigh stolen from every hour borrowed from the week that would become the happiest days of our lives.
Hiding behind doors and street corners, kissing and holding each other at the brink of sin, crushing our fingers as we ran holding hands through the blue city in unstoppable excitement. Always wanting more, like young vampires, craving each other and discovering each other in words and looks and scents and we just knew that we belonged together and the world could have stopped turning, it did, and we didn't care.
After fife or seven days she finally left, her face like one big tear, holding purple flowers behind the tinted windows of a black Mercedes Benz.
I ran up to my hotel room where I remained locked up for three days, wondering why my heart looked like a broken vase, some pieces on the sidewalk of Maipu street, some at the lobby where we met, some had left with her.
My Mother somehow convinced the hotel manager that there was a water leak in my room, that is how the rivers I cried eventually reached Mar del Plata and that is how Buenos Aires became a part of me, that was when I had to let go of the most precious thing I have ever had.
I flew back to Brazil and she flew back to the States and to say that I've forgotten those emerald eyes would be a lie, this was 23 years ago.
(yes, we spoke on the phone a couple of days ago and it was the strangest deja vu feeling but at the same time it was just amazing)
Y es que empiezo a pensar
and I begin to think
que el amor verdadero es tan sólo el primero.
true love is just the first
Y es que empiezo a sospechar
and I begin to suspect
que los demás son sólo para olvidar
that the rest are just to forget.
- Under a cascade of neon pollen -
Covered under leaves
dirt and rain
as the moon dissapears
taking with her her black dress
with sunbeam chariots chasing after her
her hairs in auroras borealis
birth a new day
My naked body lays
I wake up from the sleep
morning chases away the nightmares
the storms of before
like a fairy godmother
I lay on the wet grass
I can breathe now
breathing air as if it were water
in big gulps
filling up my lung ballons
opening my eyes
once more in wonder
before the world
stretching my muscled arms
circling the oars of my shoulders
walking on my monuments of thighs
feeling the warm blood run
in the nile to my heart
my heart
now pumping in rythm
happily jumping
the sun has come out
I am no longer tired
my rib cage is a safe
the recovery is done
as blood flows in waves
the wait is over
I'm full of strength
and I'm ready to sail
to build, to work
to hunt and kill
to track and follow
to spy and listen
to dance and sing
I'm beggining to roam again
looking for a woman
a woman to sin
a continent to conquer
a pool to swim in
a well to drink from
a fruit to eat
a skin to posses
eyes to close
lips to bite
poison to spear
hair to pull
legs to worship
clothes to rip
will you let me sleep on your thighs?
it amazes me
how much I love
and how much I love life
I have been born again
and I feel brand new.
After a sex marathon
or a Roman banquet
after a bitter cup of coffee
or a sweet latte
With a scotch
margarita or dirty martini
beer or Dom Perignon
after a long flight
on the sidewalk
or on a sailboat's deck
while reading a book
or working on a poetic attempt
I remember it
smoking is a pleasure
and now that it's almost been a year
all I can tell you is:
just quit.
Down in the basement
I can hear it
like a machine
partly broken
running and huffing and puffing
and in the rattle and hum
I see streams of oil
leaking on its monocoque
It's my heart
wounded bull
sick, bleeding
still strong but ill
slowly recovering
or just surviving
for now
Sometimes the vertigo becomes unbearable
the daily dizziness
the rushed heartbeats
the pressure, pressing
ebullition of blood
in the pipeline of life
in the fountain of blood
Sometimes, ever since I got back
when I drive
when I get up
when I walk
and I feel lost and disoriented
and the bull thumps against my chest
and my lungs close
that thought comes along
the clock ticking
and I'm walking
a walking time bomb
hoping that this heart will mend
"And if I ever lose my heart, I wont hurt, and I'll forget,
Yes if I ever lose my heart, oh if.... I wont have to love no more."
Yes, I'm back from Mexico, and it was rough.
I had been thinking of flying back to Mexico for a few years, so I grabbed an iPod, a can of maze, my laptop, my Swiss army knife and took off.
I was met by my mom, my aunt and my friend Kenya, everybody else was a no show (in the words of HST) "...and so much for friends."
My uncle had just gone through a tough surgery and I wished to stay in Mexico City, I was supposed to stay at Hugo’s place, but he flaked and for some reason I was not surprised. My second choice was staying with Jose Luis, but he wasn’t there either and while I know I can always knock on Alfredo’s door and I am always welcome it was past midnight, so I accepted to stay at Kenya’s.
From the airport it was straight to “Tacos El Gallito” still there as I remembered it. An “Alambre” was in order, a plate of steak, pork chops, bacon, ham, pastor (marinated pork, layered thin and cooked on a huge kebab) all chopped up into big chunks and covered in Oaxaca cheese… and a coke. Now that was heavenly. Then to Kenya's place, who was an excellent host.
Next day I woke up in latte desperation, where’s the closest Vivace , Ladro or a coffee shop to get a latte other than Starbucks? No such luck, here Starbucks has taken over, they are everywhere. So we went to breakfast at Vips (think Denny’s kicked up 10 notches) where I had some “Molletes con Chorizo” (4 french bread halves baked with refried beans, cheese, a mild red salsa and chorizo) and the “Salsa Ranchera” makes them sinfully good, bad ass enough to almost rival Eggs Blackstone at Glo’s on Capitol Hill.
Then off we went, looking for two of the best friends I have ever known; Gerardo “Kains” and Jorge Velez, which after an hour of driving in circles we finally found (the city has changed quite a bit) Jorge is one of the few I came looking to find, and once more it was hard to believe I was here, with my aquarian brother I love so much, that scoundrel. I also met with Ana Laura (Jorge’s sister and Gerardo’s wife and Marco (Jorge and Ana’s youngest brother, they are all Monica’s siblings) and the last time I saw them must have been some 16 years ago, funny how we still love each other like family, including their mom, "Betty" and it was great to see her doing as well as she is.
Starbucks (here they call 2% half & half) and the Caramel Lattes are almost decent. That same day we went to La Casa Azul in Coyoacan, to visit Frida Kahlo's house, where I saw her beds with mirrors on top, where "Fridita" painted pain as pain is.
That same night we went to a costume party, the next morning Jorge "flaked" and we ended up cancelling a 15 person breakfast (again, not surprised) and off we went to Mixquic, to celebrate the day of the dead. It was sad to see what a market it has become but we had a great time and the tacos were awesome, "Tacos de Suadero" steamed pork snout, ears, tongue, cheeks, eyes, skin and stomach with a side of deep fried pork skins, now this was the best meal I've had in a long time, and it was worth the ride. Then at night, back in Mexico City to see the celebrations downtown, at the main square "Zocalo" amongst a million folks with Kenya and Barbara as body guards, that's when the ride began to take a wrong turn, I felt tired and not so spunky.
Next morning I went to meet Jose Luis for lunch, at a Cantina, with a couple of friends of his and again, seeing that old friend was priceless, one of them joined me for a latte afterwards and that is when it happened. I felt dizzy, she walked me to a drug store and my HBP was 160/110 - Eureka, I have discovered that Mexico City stands at 7,349 FT and that combined with my Hypertense condition, salty fatty foods, high pollution levels and excessive excertion was about to kill me (mi stroke es su stroke) so I panicked, and I did what any Mexican Macho Man would do... I went to my mom's.
Tepoztlan is a beautiful yet strange town about which I will write at a later time, it stands at 6600 ft so I figured it would at least help. My mom's cardiologist prescribed a different HBP med and from then on I was bedridden.
Dizziness was unbearable and HBP wouldn't dip below 145/95, I got to see my friend Tao, who used homeopathy and acupuncture to alleviate things, eventually it seems like an additional HBP med did the trick and I got stable. The last few days went uneventful, just sick, visiting with my mom, my sister, her partner Victor, Tao and his wife. Eventually Kenya came to visit and stayed a couple of days, she drove me back to Mexico City and from there I flew back home.
Obama won, I'm back in Seattle, Richona picked me up from seatac, I'm home, I'm safe, my hbp is 122/84, it's ok ...wrong.
Very next day after a good night sleep I decided to walk down to the rite aid and get my HBP measured, it was good... 135/84 but I just had to do it again and it was then 119/84 so I freaked out and did what any American Macho Man would do, and went to Starbucks, feeling dizzy and thinking that a triple caramel latte would bring my hbp to normal levels... wrong again, the dizziness became unreal tournament vertigo, my heart shot out of control, I suffered a kramer vs kramer anxiety attack and by the time 911 arrived I was laying on the rite aid's side walk, holding to a garbage can... and after 5 hours I was admitted at the E.R. at Valley, where Doctor Krishna Adavand made it much. much better, Lauren, Wiwille and Richona showed up at the E.R. to check on me and as weird as it may seem it sure was the best welcome home party I've ever had, funny how things change as this rock rolls.
Now I'm back to normal, hypertense, with anti-anxiety meds, had a full check up, expired tabs, a fultanko'gas and I can't wait to get back to work.
(now I'm enjoying a latte at the new Vivace at Brix, skullcandy's on my head and life is smiling again, starting all over again.
Happy to be home
Proud to be an American
Hope has returned
and a black man is the president
My President.
Internet, finally, for a few minutes.
I'm so happy and PROUD for Obama's victory, this is historical, I am thrilled.
Being in Mexico has not been fun, seeing my mom and my sister was a blast, but due to Mexico City's altitude my high blood pressure is at dangerous levels, I am now in Tepoztlan (at my mom's) but it's still pretty high and even after seeing her cardiologist and changing my meds I am at 140/110 and I'm concerned.
For some reason I can't get through to my doc in the US and my cell does not work here. So tomorrow it's either back to the US or to Acapulco, to be at sea level.
There are some of you who would have expected a phone call or an email, I'm sorry, internet here is almost impossible.
For the first time I'm going to Mexico and it doesn't feel like I'm going home. It isn't home anymore, it is a remote land, far, far away, buried in photo albums and memories from youth. A youth as crazy as my midlife, but it did use to spin faster. Now I just hang on and enjoy the ride. Still, I know I will miss home, which is what Seattle has become, Yes, I am Mexican.
I am also American, ever since I was born, I'm going knowing I sent my absentee ballot on time and hopeful that we will embrace change and together face this broken economy and condemn the corrupt government. I will be following the vote count from Mexico and hoping we will come together and chose wisely.
I'm off to visit Teotihuacan and Mixquic anonymously, feeling like Dickinson under the Pyramid of the Moon
It was Yesterday afternoon
a day, like any other
the day least thought
it had rained in the morning
it was cloudy later on
but there he was
standing by the door
waiting outside, impatiently
I heard the beating
like a drum in tremolo
and then, when I opened the door
he stared at me
and jumped in my arms
I'm so full now
so complete
it's like the sun came out
I wasn't sure he would find it's way home
not since I had moved to Renton
and there he was
and now I have him back
a dog?
no, of course it's not a dog
if it was it would probably bark
it is a strong, Spanish bull
it is my heart.
My head hurts
the migraines, the pain
the fever, the stomach ache
the twisted horns
coming out on my head
the night is my veil
Chinese screen of darkness
comes to cover my sins
the blood, the thirst
the sins, my bed
and warm wet circles
I wear a mask
portray control
leather boots
and a riding crop
a cross for buckle
and belt
all dressed in black
my disguise is ready
and Mixquic will see me born
into what will become my uniform
on my return to the Seattle night.
I could thank you for bringing the sunshine
it was a rainy week when you arrived
and the warmth of your face was nice to have
I could acknowledge you for the courage
and the endless support you've given me
steel and concrete sentences
daily phrases of encouragement
to keep rowing
to keep flying
brick by brick
word by word
But with you here
and the softness of your hands
which formed an unexpected cloud
Thank you for not caring
or at least ignoring
the daily insanity and chaos
I sometimes dare call life
Thank you for the sunshine
for letting me show you this city
that has adopted me
as one of its own
thank you for embracing every special place
every gust of wind
every latte and quiche
for your smile
and many more things I couldn't number
thank you for the sunshine
for the sunbeam of your smile
April
for the trees are dressed in reds
and my shoes keep getting wet
for yesterday the city cried a little
but no one noticed
cause they all thought it was rain.
Will you be able to retire?
Almost 200.000 people lost their job just last month alone.
An administration that gives tax cuts to companies that outsources and offshores American jobs cannot be American.
An administration that drowns a this Nation in the biggest debt in History cannot be American.
An administration that Vetoes bills to help Vet's is not American.
After 8 Years:
7 Trillion Debt
Stock Market collapsed
Banks Bankrupt
Homes Foreclosed
Civil Rights Eroded
If you can't see this is the path to becoming a Third World Country then I hate to say this: I'm not a POW but my dad was a Vet. I'm an American but I'm also a Mexican. I grew up in Third World Countries, and America is starting to head in that direction, clearly. If you love this Country like I do, please put the Economic interest of this Nation above racism. This Economic disaster can't continue, it's time to change the course.
Should I walk away?
squeeze the knob
and turn the key?
I can't
Your kiss undressing my smile
like an arrow of bees
on your candle lit bed
I can't
you're handcuffed
but I can't
I look at you, on your knees
as if in penitence
with your tiny bare feet
on the floor, by the window
looking at me as if waiting for...
patience...
sometimes pleasure
is a pressure cooker
and my mind is about to explode
roaming through the different avenues
what to do with you first?
and what do you want?
No, not that, so vanilla
throw your taboos out the window
open your shame closet
and tell me
what is it that you angst for?
and I smile like a fountain
when you tell me it's me
I could almost cry instead of...
I sit and ponder
dream in wonder
and drool in cherry chloroform
when I think of the love we make
I dip my finger
in lady Godiva chocolate
caught in the bondage and decadence
of your derriere in that skimpy black dress
like a baby grand piano
insanity, impatience
sleep deprivation, control
you've come for control
and at the edge of the bed
almost about to fall
we make love like a hanging bridge.
The steel cage around my chest
feels tight
the bull in me
roaring, huffing and puffing
is ready to run back home
if only for a few days
I'm sick homesick
My eyes are tearing
sometimes
my heart is naked and bloody
humbled by the heights, my spirit
ready to board the aluminum bird
with it's loud hissing chant
I'm ready
my soul is ready
to climb to the top of the post
and dance in circles
with earth, water, wind and fire
as the Papantla Flyer that I am
I'm ready to take the road to Aztlan
Will you be there waiting for me?
will she be there?
What if I expect your heart
open like an umbrella?
The colorful marketplace, fresh fruit
pinatas and the man selling balloons
what if I expect the streets
to cry in rain?
ride on the orange snakes
that travel underground
Witness the sunset at the Pyramid of the Moon
overlooking the Avenue of the Dead
in Teotihuacan
Walk the cobblestone streets in Tepoztlan
while my eyes go looking
for flying saucers in the sky
and spend some nights and days
in my home, with my roots and my womb
to my Mother and to where I am from
there I could die and sleep in peace
Meet with old friends
and talk about how we are getting older
meet their kids and see me as an uncle
and yes, why not? sin with a lover
and drink her honey water "aguamiel"
But my stubborn spirit yearns for the darkness as well
the path to Mictlan is calling me
to the underworld, the parallel
to Mizquic and celebrate the dead
the dead that are coming back
while I immerse in a stupor of copal
myrrhand frankincense
sailing through a cemetery of masks
skulls and candles
chants, rosaries and prayers
and the souls of some of those we miss
like my soul misses some of you
and when you take the children trick or treating
remember I'll be in Mexico
sweating in the hot steam of the temazcal
letting my spirit run free
that's my treat
no tricks
just magic.
