The meaning did not stick to the roof of my mouth.
There are leftovers of corn tortillas and slimy
nopalitos. The scent of hot wires and jalapenos
made our eyes water. You've burned our lives down
and have empty shoes to prove it.
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
07.06.09
I sat in Bryant Park writing in my journal
watching well-dressed people pass by
and wanting desperately to be someone else today.
I walk from Bryant Park to the Chelsea apartment
listening to angry rock songs pressed into my ears
the sun is prickly hot against my skin
and sadness suffocates me today.
I walk past well dressed high-end windows on Fifth Ave
and no retail therapy will fill this lingering void
OM SHANTI SHANTI SHANTI...
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
watching well-dressed people pass by
and wanting desperately to be someone else today.
I walk from Bryant Park to the Chelsea apartment
listening to angry rock songs pressed into my ears
the sun is prickly hot against my skin
and sadness suffocates me today.
I walk past well dressed high-end windows on Fifth Ave
and no retail therapy will fill this lingering void
OM SHANTI SHANTI SHANTI...
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
It’s strange now to think of you…
when the night vibrates with intangible
rhythms and I read Bolanos, Savage Detectives
to dumb down the cruelty that rattles in my bones
how we weep for each other—
only to hold the withered versions of clanging dreams
die in the sunlight
streaming through half open windows
as warm air hits a hot naked torso
and phantasms flower and burn
in raging bloodless captivity--
And today the bed is unmade and
words slip into a melancholy mood
behind closed doors and a lonely quiet apartment
there is a sound of a brown paper bag scraping against the asphalt
pushed by a warm wind that hovers for a moment
and the mewling of a restless cat pouncing on her partner
time contracts and expands like a living creature
and there are books stacked on the bedside
and mosquito-bitten flesh to douse in anti-itch spray
five hour spells of sleep and wakefulness
drinking cups of warm water that does not soothe a cold thirst
and Michael Jackson is dead--
a cut-open corpse being autopsied
and keys jangle in shallow pockets
as I walk in the dawn air looking for a deli and a bagel,
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
rhythms and I read Bolanos, Savage Detectives
to dumb down the cruelty that rattles in my bones
how we weep for each other—
only to hold the withered versions of clanging dreams
die in the sunlight
streaming through half open windows
as warm air hits a hot naked torso
and phantasms flower and burn
in raging bloodless captivity--
And today the bed is unmade and
words slip into a melancholy mood
behind closed doors and a lonely quiet apartment
there is a sound of a brown paper bag scraping against the asphalt
pushed by a warm wind that hovers for a moment
and the mewling of a restless cat pouncing on her partner
time contracts and expands like a living creature
and there are books stacked on the bedside
and mosquito-bitten flesh to douse in anti-itch spray
five hour spells of sleep and wakefulness
drinking cups of warm water that does not soothe a cold thirst
and Michael Jackson is dead--
a cut-open corpse being autopsied
and keys jangle in shallow pockets
as I walk in the dawn air looking for a deli and a bagel,
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
