a fiesta of angel crows
down at alamo mission
the virgin mother and the holy ghost
I would pray there, fall on my knees, prostrate myself if prayer could heal
the ancestors
to heal them
you need to tell their truth
crazy mike had no god, and that is the god I believe in
the god of my mother, I believe in her god
warm hearts,
can only
survive.
the warm heart of a woman
it must be at least four degrees hotter than a man
Above, the Gods laugh.
We attempt to discover their mockery.
"God is not mocked except by believers"
i have followed the presence of flesh, met
death as a friend at my dor, wore my hair
in glistened shades of grey and gold, sold
memories in exchange for glances of affection,
the presence of skin not my own
a dilogue of the skin and words
but I have only glimpsed death
I have not met that angel yet
and a grave is a fine and private place
world enough and time
there would not be a crime
the culprit life still lurks
It's too late
never too late?
ha - late is late
later
2 edits and done
so much beauty
so many pages of fun
eighteen so far and rolling home
back later for the end of my morning mania
and a meloncholy evening