Ray Gonzalez


Add nothing to your hands—close frame
  in possession of beards, arrows,
ahields from mistaken souvenirs.

Add opinion to the stem—serious injury
  despite waves of illegals eating breakfast
halfway across the international bridge.

Add eyelashes to the earth's surface—selfish touch
  deciphering which lover left,
which beautiful baptism made her return.

Add sequences to your lips—approved alphabet
  jailing the Spanish tongue to avoid
trapping avocados in future encryptions.

Add meditations itching with rapture—funny horizons
  colored to amuse the calendars left behind
to assure devastation of the barbed wire.

Add train robberies west of downtown-hungry illegals
  stopping the cars and boarding to find
crates and crates of disposable diapers.

Add music to compressed tension—destroyed ribs
  buried by the river to explode when
thousands cross without being turned back.

Add muscular wisdom—faltering ceremonies
  giving birth to computerized babies
already dreaming in English and wanting to go back.

Add scanned knowledge with forgetfulness—cries invented
  to send a message to hovering bandits
spilling out of your headphoned ears.

Add nothing to the shattered bird—lone creature
  that resisted the sun when the sun
was the only desert that burned.

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© 2002 Electronic Poetry Review