Los Angeles

Sun a torch beam
onto blue waters
underground I swim through
in silence on my back
under bats over fish
drifting inches below
nose to nose
with stalactites
and no muse touches me
to write a single line

In the woods
iguanas scurry in the brush
a millions squeaks and squawks
cheeps, chirps, tweets, gobbles
daylight breaking
setting on fire the pyramid
at Chichen Itza
history aglow
and no breath of inspiration
fills my lungs

I am an empty wreck
no heart beats
as I suck the soul
from cocoanuts and bottles
and so much more
diving, trying, into myself
where nothing is found
no word or tune
no verse or impromptu whistle
until when…

The loop into the sky
off the 105
descending to 110
my city there for me
my return
the welcome home to my home
and all the songs in me
begin to sing
every time we leave
‘regrasamos’ I say
because it’s a promise
this is where the end comes
after siesta
at about quarter to five

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