The king passed and asked them
“why you cry, you two slaves?”
“For our precious son, the
sun of every dawn
we cry for our precious son
who sold us for some coins
who exchanged us for gold
which you gave him oh king
and he hasn’t come since then
our only joy and resolve”
and the king orders
“bring the boy in front of me”
“You’re the destruction’s son
and the ruin of your parents
and you’re riding a horse
and you’re dressed in all fanfare
tears you spread all over
tears you never had,” “yes”
he answers and the king
writes an edict “noble son
take this edict and go away
become a lightning bolt and
for ten days and ten nights
don’t you ever dare stop

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D3LP7NW6

Like a Film
My homeland is the flowing
moment that always was
and touched the farewell
the passing of the flowing river
and left fantastic years
roles that are passed over
under constellations
kites of our origin
innocence that travels in darkness.
I was a path once
a piece of infinity
divided heart, a secret departure
I smuggled away utopia
searching for the forefather of a dream
so, I could return
the wild wind gleaming and flowing spring
insubordinate poem deep footprint
and as everything ages
I shall move ahead
irreversibly
into the mined wave.

Snow
He was the only one I had, although I couldn’t recognize him.
He went away and came back. “Someday you’ll also return.”
He said, “But no one will be here,” then he talked to me of his
mother’s green dress, and he emphasized the word green as if
he defended the whole world; other times, he kneeled and asked
for the forgiveness of the centuries of grief and the women who later
descended to do the laundry were forgotten in a great shine and
as it started snowing, I opened the Gospel
but it was snowing in it as well.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562930

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763831

Diner Cook
Eons behind the counter, the years
he has spent in this diner, side of
the highway where truckers stop
to rest, to eat something fast, to
relieve themselves and to resume
their fast-trucking way towards
their destination to earn their
living just like the diner cook who
stands behind the counter and cooks
hamburgers, a matter of two minutes
each side, which along with a handful
of fried potatoes make up the regular
meal, straight French cuisine, one
might muse, food meant to be digested
as the driver sits in his seat focusing
on the next bend of the road, the faraway
depot where he’ll get paid, he too
has done as others did before him
he too has lived the donkey’s life
just as others did before him

https://draft2digital.com/book/3745812#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763637