Comatose or How Long Before I Pull the Plug on this Blog

The heart monitor shows hills and valleys that look different from one another

the Sodium Chloride bags are changed every two hours providing the necessary fluids

A foley catheter collects dutifully urine

the eyes twitch behind the eyelids

the skin is moist and pale

sponge bath and toileting are given by rough and soft hands daily

moans, throat sounds, snoring, farting sometimes escape

the watch continues

the life beeps and beeps away

in this white, clinical temple

Traffic sounds, party chatters, family feuds, fashion trends press against the glass doors

California drought, genocides and Hillary Clinton, queen of America shout from the TV

wake up

wake up

Make us swoon again under the moon

Blow us kisses from across the room

Make us forget the coming doom

Never die like a TV cartoon


Souvenirs d’enfance ou Tango To Zalaka

A young man holds near him a snotty little boy,

They are sitting in a 80’s Rang Rover.

This picture flashes another memory

The same snotty boy riding a green Mercedes car toy in the living room.

This is the thirst before the rush

And the rush that rides the thirst.

The hair at the back of my head  are dancing

And my heart trumpets like a lost baby elephant.

The sun sits large and wide at the end of the road

Asking to come closer just a little bit more

Where death can’t stop the pulse

Where one beats calls another

Like stars locked in heavenly motion

Trying to find the starting point

For the circle (circus) of the universe.

Nothing is as burdensome as a corpse

Nothing is as burdensome as an  overweight corpse

He said to himself as he grabbed the folds of his flesh

While standing naked in front of the mirror

Naked and annoyed

Then he opened his fridge

And stood there lost in thought

He liked the artificial kiss of the cold on his warm skin

Then he emptied his entire fridge in trash bags

Ice cream, beer, cheese, milk, eggs, pop, cakes and meats

All went into the trash bag

But as he was about to go outside

He realized he was still naked

Naked and free

But he went back to put on some shorts

And then went to the dumpster and threw it away

He returned to his house and wrote an email to his ex wife:

“Make sure they throw me to the sharks when I’m dead.”

He saved it in the drafts folder like all the others

Today was a new day

A good day to be saved

But he was thirsty and hungry now

He sat for God knows how long

Thinking about all his food in the dumpster

And the maggots having a feast day

Today was a good day to swim

oh to swim in the waters of salvation

and to be made new

if the sharks don’t get to him first

La Lucha

I must have the world at my feet

And feel the high of divine power

I stay awake at night devising stratagems about it

I have stacks upon stacks of black ledgers

Filled with notes written in black ink

Detailing my plans for world domination

The truth about me is simple:

Being born with nothing, I have nothing trying to gain it all

So every morning after prayer

I train assiduously one muscle group at a time

Because nothing is as gentle as true strength

I also trim off the fat I don’t need

Just enough to be light on my feet

Once I have the world on my back

As to training my mind it’s a whole different matter

Knowledge weighs more than gold

So with every penny I buy myself some knowledge

Because omniscience is the only omnipotence

I’m diligent as to who I sell portions of my soul to get gold

Using gold to get knowledge

And knowledge to get gold

I just have to have the world at my feet

There’s just no other way about it

Because being born with nothing

I have nothing to lose trying to gain it all.

The Big Picture

No matter how many times I blink

I just can’t seem to see the big picture

I go to sleep and wake up with

My vision still blurry

All I can do is hope it is temporary

As I go about my day

Focusing on the small things

That can safely fit in my hand

Without spilling over

And as time builds up in my bones

Maybe the big picture will come together

And a maybe is enough for me to sleep happy these days

Guide to Living Stress Free

I keep my head up

Afraid that my thoughts might fall

Sometimes I need a neck brace

To resist the gravity of despair

Alarmed by how often I was nodding off

I started doing neck exercises

I got religious over it

Every morning before I greeted the Sun

I would do 40 reps in every direction

I started monitoring my worries

Making sure they in my belly

And never get to my neck

I ended up with a joyous and strong belly

It’s a small price to pay

To keep my head on my shoulders

And my thoughts well tucked inside

lower your hips

These days I practice the stance of a gold miner

Bent knees and lowered wait

Eyes focused on the streams of life

Sifting thought the drab of routine

Just for the shadow of God

That will appease my thirst

Even as  I stay feverish and shivering

My hair falling by the day

And my flesh sliding off me

In a quiet betrayal

I know as sure as I can feel

My left ear wet

From the lick of Death’s tongue

That my bones will remain standing

My knees bent and my waist lowered

As time gently withers me away

I will turn my days in all angles

Still waiting to find the shadow of God to come along