I have walked from river's end to end
a slow companion to the light seagulls
that circle overhead
and I have stood still above the bend
that separates the foot from distant hulls
to fill my eye with flying sails wings spread
I have watched them many times from where
the far shore curves around the sun
and holds it there ensnared
while they advanced then dropped midair
instinct with seaward gravitation
and hungry claws prepared
their wings some shimmering things
the wind has caught and suddenly flings
in a rain of gold
I am not old
and yet when night brings me to town
I forget their wings and drown
now and forever
now might I keep you forever thus unchanged
against the eventual day for both of us arranged
when the rude winds shall bring
no promise of another spring
but cold and comfortless satisfaction
the grave's discreet and quiet action
I would not mind the days precisioned
to the clock's unwinding
flesh to flesh binding
would find some way as yet unvisioned
some way to forget
the fever and the sweat
here where lovers have known
the soft of hair and hard of bone
hearing each other moan
a way more conscionably kind
for a night's repose
but time defined
forbids us to dispose
of even one brief moment that has passed
or keep the moment thus forever fast
catchtraps
we knew the words before we knew their meaning
who asked so many whys while still in weaning
how many pitfalls marked with skull and crossbones
to outwit those who lay beneath the moss stones
then set about to verify the answers
seeking in us the cause of others' cancers
so found ourselves new victims of time's catchtraps
and now must moan and curse until the latch snaps
beyond cost
darling don't be lost to me
the fear was there
under the sleeve
lifting the hair
darling don't be lost to me
it was a prayer
caught like a leaf
burning in air
darling you are tossed from me
the year is bare
wonder and grief
drifting to where
darling you are tossed from me
what here more rare
thought like a thief
turning to stare
summer and winter
so many years of many seasons
we saw and found together
snapped grassroots trembling to the spring
plucked berries out of harvesting
caught swirling autumn down from trees
about us drew a sunbright frieze
oh summer was our weather
but winter was in our hearts
how many years of many reasons
convinced us not to part
remembering the search for first green bud
the rain paths rainbowed in the mud
the cheep behind the window ledge
the shutter like a moonshined wedge
oh summer was our weather
but winter was in our hearts
too many years, too many years
we lived and loved together
for oh my dear the winter fears
destroyed the summer weather
for doubts can frost and worries blight
the careful seed, the ripened stacks
and questions when they come by night
leave barren fields behind their tracks
suddenly
there was sun and moon and stars
and night and day
all taken for granted
then no sun no moon no stars
no night no day
forsaken transplanted
there was sight and sound and touch
and someone there
as always forever
then an empty silence such
as none aware
of hallways to never
item: body found
it was a silent evening I remember
through the river's mist it comes to me
a star pierced the air, white with speed
it leaped across the sky, slipped and fell
I heard its cry, it echoed in the sea
the swift wild cry of the scornful ember
alone I stood there, never had I need
of fellow rebel more, I a rebel
down the dark beach I ran, I stripped, time
was an eyeless reach across immensity
and I plunged deeply, they blamed it on the tide
the night, they had not seen infinity
like a vast unchanging vista wide
before me. if you go too far you'll drown
they said, ah no, they know the sublime
who reach for the falling star and go down
on trial
the day to day commitment to failure
that judgment daily argues against me
condemns me to despair... I am guilty
of more than silence... at times words fail your
wisest men and then intentionally...
but my silence like all my secrecies
has no defense, none conventionally,
my personal idiosyncrasies
no social crimes... when pride is pain and shame
an agony too keen for reason I
had no other weapon, who is to blame?
there was no intent to deceive or lie...
my absence is sufficient evidence,
voluntary exile, not providence
guadalajara
water running over stone
overrun my heart
water running over stone
overcome my start
now wear down my sorrow
wash away my fears
I have mourned tomorrow
widowed by the years
(water running over stone
hard it is to be alone)
water running over stone
canyon deep inside
water running over stone
canyon steep and wide
now let a river flow
strong and continuous
out of the desert grow
green bouldered oasis
(flat and dry of emery
plateaus on my memory)
water running over stone
be the blood within my bone
water running over stone
take me and make me your own
pilgrimage
now that the flame has died which burned in us
burned too intense for living with, beside
and we have cooled to the quieter dust
so comfortably and separately you and I
let us lift to the wind and drift from our pyre
as passionlessly and still as those destined
candles of the mind whose pilgrimage through night
ends with a dawn cold white and all their flames relit
washday in the tropics
the sun tropics down my days
with heat of roof and balcony
drying me out like morning's wash
on mudbaked brick and shrubbery
the clouds are bleached by lye and ash
to make a stiff and faultless sky
and spotless leaves hang limp on trees
without the energy to die
flies buzz... cock calls... the hammock swings
with eye asquint to palmribbed light
while smoke coughs up the desert air
between straw sips of cool and white
where cactus pricks the sunscorched haze
against the rainless afternoon
three zopilotes sit and wait
to pick apart the carcass moon
and still more scrub of soap on stone
with slap and shake and fling of wrist
though I unsmooth each ironed piece
before night creeps along the mist
only this
I return to old complaints
like the earth to its seasons
the church has its saints
and I my reasons
one needs to know trees
their leaves, bark and roots
to perceive what one sees--
the mind has no shoots
only this: the older I grow
the more I feel, not know
the need of believing--
my youth is leaving
maturity
for years I watched it grow
in thought and shape a man
though it was smaller then and mild
I was in fact a gentle child
the words it spoke were songs
the air it breathed seemed sweet
its eyes saw more than was to see
the world I loved was meant for me
each day it woke the sun
and played till time had tired
then put the night to sleep in bed
I dreamed the sky was underhead
when it was glad I joyed
when it was sad I grieved
joy and grief were never lonely
I had myself for company
the seasons came and went
and with them went we two
the fallen leaves now memories
of years grown thick as forest trees
till knowledge found us there
and taught us false from true
how much the simple lesson cost
I gained a world not worth the lost
alter ego
always He was there
facing me
where the others could not see
they never believed me
He stood in the shadows
like a tree
posed in sunlight
when the woods are darkly bright
but they saw only
black and white
as I impatiently
cried fools are you blind
they looked at me
their eyes were not unkind
when He spoke
I heard each word
distinctly spoken
the silence broken
was what He said
but they only shook their heads
as I repeatedly
cried fools can't you hear
gently they answered me
your voice is clear
when He wept
they wiped my tears
kept me consoled
for the pain He felt
fools are you so old
you have no fears,
have you no heart
that grief can melt
I insisted through the years
but they would not depart
when He slipped
they caught me in their arms
ripped the garments from my wound
and staunched the flow
fools let me go let me go
I shouted in alarm
as He swooned
and still they did not see
the shadows by the tree
they never believed me
then He was dying
and I knew
dying too
that they would bury me there
beside the tree
where no one else could see
but the fools were crying
because I was lying so quietly
watching the shadows
and waiting
this much I know about time
there is safety
only in the heart
guard it well
my love
where is beauty
lonely in the mart
hard to sell
my dove
fame is rider
pawing wind and cloud
fool to reach
so far
blame is spider
drawing in the crowd
cruel of speech
they are
joys are token
mainly for regret
high the score
I played
toys are broken
plainly to forget
buy no more
I said
breath is fearless
bolder than the mind
few will sight
my spire
death is cheerless
colder than the wind
who will light
my fire
in the wake of sleep
storm in the brain whips the dull season high
while dunes of repetition pile against the night
sandscarred to flight... hurriedly the shore
frightened by tide sliding out from cat's paw
scurries behind land's door, turns key in lock
and dims the light... now wind and rain can rock
the mind to a wild ship's bow, ride down a mile
climb up a wall to mountain height of sky...
dreams crash each side, tear anchor loose from sleep
and madly race the lightning out to sea...
everything changes: hands feet eyes the face
of storm, all composition of the gray
sameness, walls razed, roofs blown, the no of drought
flooded out... the revenging dog barks loud
across the fog and we wake to the nightmare
violence of day, salt in mouth, sand in hair
cold wakening
for thirty years I lived a dream
until I woke up with a scream
and saw that all the things I'd dreamt
had vanished in the dawn's contempt
it was not I within the glass
it was my mother's face alas
a face so changed from mine I'd known
I thought the years had turned to stone
and where were all my innocence
my glad beliefs and magic pence
that I had saved to travel through
a timeless world where dreams come true?
not anything inside my hand
no moment's evidence of sand
just grayish pulp to make me damn
the heartless proof I think, I am?
the dream is gone and still as ice
that glaciers down some mountain splice
and I am carried underneath
with stones to cling to by my teeth
weather forecast
always before the final terror
a luscious peace
not yet the signal bell
not yet the swift alarm
the sleeper has another hour
the worker has a holiday
still eases the dawn forward
still comes the morning toward
open the cities' piers
open frontiers
an early spring
being everything
the last kiss like the first
the best without the worst
always after the initial fear
a new release
not yet the sharp compel
not yet the threatened harm
the body has a lazy power
the brain has an agile way
so warm the fireside within
so rich the harvest every bin
secure the outer walls
secure the stalls
a deep serenity
without enmity
the first signs like the last
the future in the past
measured interval
the morning speeds to a full stop
lands in the park
and lights a cigarette--
still fifteen minutes to burn
and then noon
the train comes along, drops
through the darkness
and forgets--
till five o'clock returns
and the news
night wakes with a gong
rings bells in the brain
and runs off shouting--
sleep dresses itself
and wakes, shaking
skies ricochet downward, prong
ciliate streaks of rain
with gun shells routing--
a mad head on a shelf
laughs, breaking
now the moon blankets over the dead
the warmth their lover bodies were denied
they lie on alien bed
who failed to live
who tried, whose eyes are wide
to heaven knows what stars
what glories fugitive
o tell me mars
to every action
is there an equal
and opposite reaction
black sun
the night is white, ah strange
the world I knew grown changed
for sun is black with days
I can not see amazed
all has reversed, gone void
each thought a masked deploy
confusing sense: heat cold
more less, body and soul
only the light of dreams
in which I stand blasphemed
lost blind, a sack of straw
facing windy mouths abhorred
land is accursed, sea slimed
with foulest human crimes
at what expense to hide
the fratricidal eye
the ghosts of years file past
like candles in a glass
and I a sound unheard
to stop the murderer
dawn chanticleers no peace
there is no west no east
space closes round the speck
man claims as architect
log for a voyage
we have taken to words on page
without speech
we have taken to birds in cage
within reach
forsaken the meaning of lips
forsaken the free wing that dips
we have shaken the fruitful tree
of belief
we have shaken the brutal sea
for relief
mistaken the evils of sin
mistaken the wheels that spin
then who of us shall slake the salt wound
on the tongue
who shall wake the nightingales marooned
here among
o wander the world for the garden that lies
on the floor of atlantis or roof of the skies
from its seed breed a new race of life loving men
from its reed and papyrus make music again
notes for the future
light destroyed by minds
only the stars
might destroyed by hands
only the stones
no other language but signs
no other knowledge but clans
time reduced by fear
only the sun
space reduced by force
only the hunt
each one yoked from head to knee
each one racked by tooth and claw
ears condemned to hope
only the drum
eyes condemned to ape
only the dream
this book is
a signed limited edition
designed by the author
set in cheltonian type
printed on biblios paper
published and distributed by
editorial jus mejia number 19
mexico city