Wednesday, August 30, 2006

El Abanico


~El Abanico~
Part of my life is always on the table.
Bought expensively,
washed chopped fried,
reduced in the pan, served on a plate,
eaten and enjoyed,
yes I love you.
The rest lives underneath,
with the gum and our memories,
mamma's pets,
dad's radio,
our meals together.
You are my tablecloth,
my Goya cartoon
with the dog the garden the curios of love
in the folds of my Japanese fan,
your heart, the blooming cactus,
the dog the cat, all life
and the wind across my face in the afternoon, the morning.

Chica and the blooming cactus & Rupert




La Chica


She dances when she falls across the sofa.


She is spinning, I am spinning...

a meatball cousin,

bigger than Madonna,

Coco's friend,

Yuffie,

Spike:

our old partner.





el nopale de Tolumne


I want to be a blooming cactus in a hand painted gourd.

Quiero... quiero ser un cactus floreciente en una mano calabaza pintada.














A table in the Labrynth