Wednesday, July 21, 2010

dear sanza

dear sanza
i am trapped in a pyramid of shame.
i went to the nocturne and split myself---
my good sister left my side and took a cab
and left me alone to choose my destiny.
i chose poorly, sanza, and took the hand
that was given me at that ole corral,
you know the place, basto, you remember---
and the man with the hand took me to his place.
he played for me his records and gave to me
his music. i don't know what happened really.
somehow i felt like i was strangling him
or something like that---then i really started
to feel good. i thought of you, ponchi, i did.
but the look on his face finished me, sincerely.
i saw him all trying to fight it and said
oh look look look look---mira!---look!!
amigo was jumping! no kidding, his eyes
were daggers, his nose was crunchy, his
mouth was buckled in, he steamed red,
i burst, ponchi, and screamed your name!
oh why did you go from me, santolito!
he felt so good that shoulda been you,
he fell asleep once i patted his sweaty
head and told him que pollo, papi, que pollo.
i think of you now, sanza, i'm trying to sleep,
but i think of you, wherever you are.
                       your loving carmelita noche

ps. i swear i'll do it again if you don't come back.

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