* esta noche *

a father banging the drum, playing the trumpet, watching his niña,
cool young studs in fashion gear standing by their shiny motocicletas,
couples fucking in backseat parked cars of darkened calles.

a tired mother, a smile to the little girl crying on the metro,
borrachos and the choque machine man wandering in the plaza,
the distracted policeman sending a text message from his platform.

children lighting fireworks on quiet midnight cobblestone streets,
a friend drinking pulque with a thousand years old cult of sacrifice,
breathing, feeling, dissolving, solo en el noche atras la catedral.

((addendum))

(the burning christmas tree) last night, the final night of this stay in mexico city, i walked down calle mixcalco toward my hotel. passing the plaza nuestro señora de san loreta, i stopped for a moment, to feel the air.

this favorite space, of all the many beautiful ones here, trashy and elegant. an ancient spanish baroque building leaning to the east, and like many of the structures here, literally sinking into the earth. the sense is of the ground breathing in and out.

a block away from the hotel, at the corner, i saw a flash of light in a huge pile of garbage on the street. seeming to spontaneously combust, a christmas tree spiked into the pile burst into flames on the empty street.

bewildered, it stopped me dead in my tracks...coming to my senses, i hustled into the hotel niza, the sound of the flames crackling in my ears.

+ bethlehem + (pt. i)

fever and nauseous, yet each day better,
no home, amazing simple kindness of friends,
no food no cry, empty and peace to all...

enjoying the crazed, chaotic, frenzied moment,
doesn't matter if the shopping gets done,
beautiful christmas lights of backed up traffic.

displaced hive of bees cut down, left at the side of the road,
load them in the trunk, buzzing energetically around your head,
grateful to be: one man's trash, another's treasure...

losing track of the days, you go to work on saturday
thinkin' it's friday, look up to vibrant lights and colors,
the quarter moon shines through early morning fog.

leave this body behind, this vessel bless it,
is sometimes a prison, subtle vibrations, pulse
of beating heart and lungs, freely received, free to let go...

lux/i/foros (lucid flying)

"lucifer qui mane oriebaris"...


growing out from a bluff side, an evergreen cedar,
with fascination, he steps out across the chasm,
and into the smooth entangled branches.

looking down, roots like legs send into the darkness,
another moment, it gives way and he falls back,
into empty sky, stars above, city lights far below.

in free descent now, wind beating mercilessly,
gazing deeply, then eyes closed and letting go,
at peace, gravity's weight begins to fade.

* gravity (cualquier cosa sentir vivo) *

night now the moon is full, ascending to pierce indigo blue,
only a moment later, or two, back again this heaviness of flesh,
reaching, trying to feel, a burning coal against your skin,
now plunging into icy wetness, anything to tell you you're alive,
some connection, to wake from this dream of ghosts and apparition.



noche ahora la luna es llena, asciende para cortar el azul de indigo,
solamente un momento más, o dos, otra vez este peso de la carne,
tocando para sentir, un carbón fiero contra su piel,
ahora en las aguas heladas, cualquier cosa sentir vivo,
una conexión, para a despierte de este sueño de fantasmas y aparición.

"midsummer stupa dream (on impermanence)"

the monks, in sand colored habits, seated themselves in concentric rings rising up the inside of the beehive like structure. at the base and looking up at them, the elder abbot, neither male nor female with a head of shaved stubble, began speaking of the glories of dying in this way, and of how nirvana awaited directly on the other side for those who gave themselves willingly to it.

he, and a few of the others, knew that their only chance of surviving the gas was to sit near the top of the hive, where a couple of windows afforded an escape path if they could not hold their breath for long enough.

finding a place, he leaned forward with the others into a sitting fetal position. the last thing he saw before closing his eyes was the shaved heads of row upon row of young male devotees. then, the snakelike hiss of gas as all faded to blackness.

now, outside the temple, he rode up in a sedan with the other defectors. they stepped into the darkness and quickly stole up the hillside the stupa was built into. by a flickering firelight, he saw a middle-aged monk directing bhikkus in the disposal of the bodies.

walking into the aftermath, he pulled the cowl over his face to avoid the director's gaze. stepping into a room of scattered bodies, he felt an energetic scurrying and looked down to the floor. a multitude of creatures, ants, grasshoppers, crabs and the like, were devouring each other as they swarmed on the parched ground.

reaching down, he picked up a green grasshopper, intent on eating a tiny ant, even as it was being consumed by a much larger one. they began crawling on and biting his legs and hands. he brushed them away, but then became fascinated by the insistence of their actions, and held still as they continued to swarm...

blue sky (tinged w/crimson)

the back room of a quiet suburban neighborhood home. they lay there on the carpet, the blue sky of dusk tinged with crimson coming through the skylight. she looked at the pizza menu. his mind loosed, then dropping away into a void, a darkness where blood coalesced, then splashed away by a flood of water.

"ok we're getting pineapple and jalapeno, my favorite!" she said, then a brief silence. suddenly he was back in the present, a loud pounding on the back fence and a shouted "auxilio! auxilio!". at first it sounded like punk rock, but something was way wrong about the sound. without thinking, he leapt up and ran into the garage, pushing the automatic door opener.

she followed, with an overwhelming sense of dread, and yelled "don't go out there", but he didn't hear her as he looked for a stick or some kind of weapon. she stopped at the back of the garage, anger in her bones at his impulsive rush into this.

as the door lifted, he ran out onto the drive, and stopped cold. a suburban looking brown-skinned man, orange t-shirt on all fours at the end of the driveway looking up plaintively. three thugs in black ski-masks stood over him yelling, punching, kicking.

again, without thought, he blurted out the lie: "get the fuck outta here, the cops are on the way!". immediately they started to run down the alley, and the crack of pistol shots rang in his ear. he froze in place at the hood of the minivan wanting, but unable to move. the man on the ground stared up and into the last eyes of mercy he would ever see.

an eternal moment, and he sprang to life, running into the garage, hitting the switch to close the door and falling into the house, almost knocking her down. he could hear the working of the mechanism, closing slowly, way too slowly.

the man, hit now and spurting blood in gentle arcs, crawled toward the narrowing slit of the garage, and collapsed at the foot of the minivan. lying there, bleeding out and fading, his last image of this earth a sideways view up and into the now red speckled blue sky.

in the house, they stared intently into each others faces for a moment, and he left her again, going out the front door and sneaking around the side of the house. lying low, he watched a black navigator,the last of the crew, pull out of the alley. there was no body, only pools of blood.

fifteen minutes later, one cop car arrived out front, and two officers spilled out and into the alleyway. they stood in the front yard with some neighbors, waiting for some news, and tensed up as the thugs pulled by slowly in front of them.

"we have to leave now", he said. back inside, they furiously piled clothes in a bag, enough for a couple of nights, and ran out to their cars. as they pulled away from the curb, one behind the other, two vehicles passed them, and then dog-legged around the cul-de-sac to get behind them again.

his heart pounding, he dialed her cell phone and yelled "they're following us!". they were almost out of the neighborhood now, and saw the flashing lights of a cop car who had someone pulled over. "pull up next to the cop, alright?", and he hung up the phone. the truck and car following them passed slowly by and exited onto the main road.

catching his breath now, he waited thirty seconds before they pulled onto the road again, and drove up a block to the highway bridge. sitting at the stoplight, he paused and then ((whammm)) a car rear-ended him, pushing his car into her truck.

"christ!" in a panic, he dialed her number again and yelled into the receiver "go! don't get out of your truck!" they pulled ahead and the car sped past them. he was breathing rapidly now as she jumped out of the truck and ran back to him.

"breathe, o.k.?", she said. "hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna..." she calmed him enough to drive, and they pulled away, into the oncoming night.

" destroy this temple "

passed out, feverish for days he lay among the rubble. dishevelled piles of stones around him as though burial mounds from some forgotten war. eyes convulsing, he dreamt in rapid fire sequences, image upon image, travelling somewhere rapidly, never at rest, never at peace.

a sound among the ruins and he awoke, it seemed into yet another layer of perception. in the shadows, she was there, crouched and slinking towards him. she crawled the last few feet, drew near and mounted him furiously. plunging into him with a vengeance unrestrained, she leaned in close, as though to steal his breath away. he felt relief give way to fear and panic, as the thrusts turned to violent spasms.

now others came upon them in the darkness, lovers from past lives, themselves in various guises. they joined them, forming a writhing mound among the fallen stones. all the bodies they had ravaged from here to eternity joined in at once, flailing away at every orifice, as flesh began to tear and blood mixed with come and sweat. he mocked her and turned to move away, but was pulled back into the fray.

finishing now, they kicked her back and onto him. he screamed yet nothing came out, the weight of those around and on them having expunged the air from his lungs. the mass of flesh continued to move for a time. some retched now, and gradually all turned back to silence.

some time later, he began to scratch and claw his way out from under the pile of bodies. bruised and shaken, his blood mixed with semen, bile and earth, and congealed into a crust upon him. slowly regaining his senses, he began to break off and pull away chunks of the putrid mud from his skin.

he stumbled now to the quarry, grabbing the last of the kerosene and turned back to the mound of bodies. approaching, he saw her crawl out and away into the darkness. without hesitation, he flung the kerosene onto the remnant, struck a match and threw it onto the pile.

a ball of flames rose up and with the dry blast of a furnace, violently threw him back and onto the ground. burning flesh and bone transformed to huge chunks of ash and sparks as they lifted up into the night sky. scorched now, he threw the holy books, votives and sacramentals that remained onto the pyre, turned and staggered away into the night.