CORAZON

The walking stick,

leaning in the corner, knows it.

And, so do I: the wanderlust

beckons.

Soon enough -

you’re silhouette in the doorway,

slipping my embrace,

the long shadow,

the creaking gate,

the final wave at the crest

of the hill.

The wind that whistles

through the treetops

will bring nothing

but the memory

of your sighs.

Though I will search the sky

for a message, I will

find only clouds, feathers,

dust, pale light and a hint of winter

(but no trace of you).

Now it begins

this season of long shadows

and the silence of stone.

LIVESTOCK OF THE RICH AND FAMOUS

She was hot

moving across the floor

like a cat

sultry and proud

under the thumb of no one

owing allegiance to no one

save her family.

She cut a swath

through the lives

of the young men

who swirled endlessly

around her

in a flurry of misdirected

passion.

She was Carmen

she was Media

Her acid tongue

dusted the cheek of many

a would-be lover

like the bull whip’s kiss.

She flicked off the ashes

of their foiled romance

as casually

as she adjusted their libidos.

If you had a bulge in your pants

it had better be shaped like

a wallet.

She was Isadora

dancing before them

eyes twinkling

wantonly dipping low

reveling in her sensuality

flitting sprightly

teasing.

She was Lorena

drawn to manly brutality

exasperated when she could not

tame it

and exonerated when she cut it loose.

CLASS

“I know what makes a man happy!”

Oh yeah?

And what would that be?

“A man wants to be treated a certain way

He wants a whore in the bedroom

and a mother in the kitchen.”

Marie says this to me with

that certainty that some children who

have been blessed by the wisdom of the ages

possess.

She says this to me as we lay on her bed.

It’s the “odd” weekend and I have made the long

drive from Pedro to Montebello to try to

“fall in love” with her

yet one more time.

She says this to me and I know

she’s serious, she means it

She doesn’t understand that times have changed

Or maybe she doesn’t believe me

As I tell her that

“I just want you to be a woman

wherever you are.”

Marie was a firm believer in those mystic

feminine “guile’s”

She used them on me constantly

unrelenting

“You’re just denying your true nature as a man!”

She would have me by the balls

telingl me that she knew me

better than I knew myself.

So, apparently she was also going to be my mother in the bedroom, as well.

I finally gave up on ever falling in love with her

I already had one mother

(sometimes one is enough)

and I never did have much desire

for whores

but I wasn’t a cheapskate either

I made sure that I left a good tip

on the dresser.

Raindog