moocat.net - poetry - Flashpoems, cont'd, by Luis Alberto Urrea

31.	If I remain still, I can taste her breast. So strange her texture creams my tongue.
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32.	Eyegames or Old Age: LUBE OIL & TUNEUP becomes, in rainy light: LIVE GILA MONSTER
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33.	Despairing of God, I came to the desert seeking saints. The tongue of the tribe sleeping in my family whispers spiny songs: chumampaco/place where they killed the dogs: huirives/ bird: bacochibampo/ the water of the serpents: bajeribampo/ the water of the lizards: cuirimpo/ the place of the drummers. The freeway is the phrasebook of the dreamers: I will write--giostebareme. Sing me a song--nech-che-biu-graia. The sun is coming out--apo-po a-liey-ya. Delepane. Good-bye.
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34.	Good-bye.
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35.	America's a page of Kerouac: disjointed dharma poems in the brain unspooling highways, paper rolls/black ink black light/black coffee and doughnuts/black berry jam on yer toast, honey/black sabbath black magic/slap the black off you/black eyed susans flouncing in ditches from here to the Black Hills of sleeping South Dakota, Crazy Horse mtn flexing up from the pine shadows, arm raised into the sunrise as if the ghosts of the tribes could rise: wheels clickclack the fast lane like keys of a wasted Underwood out of date but typing, haunted, weeds fingering the letters in a junkyard, some kind of haiku: AM radio sings its toilet paper hymns--cigarettes, hamburgers, sports at ten till the hour, conspiracies. Today was tomorrow yesterday. Today was tomorrow yesterday.
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36.	loneliness family far off rainstorm
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37.	My breath throws clouds down the road: I follow.
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38.	sips coffee in that window: lone woman at sunrise
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39.	while mockingbird insults the dawn
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40.	white panties on the clothesline net my desire like a fish

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