End The Night

The entire backdrop is florescent

it is effervescent, it is dazzling. It

borders between homes and Surrealism

talking to Dada. ¿"Que es

esto"? me pregunto. Ahora si que estamos entre

dos mundos.

Here and there, back and forth, up and down,

I am still and idle. My mind meanders, no,

gallivants

throughout the tortilleria and lungs and back to

internal sideburns. Where my fingertips end

the apparitions being in full Technicolor

letters in bright lights – would you even know me

by name? Speak it into the void.

This cacophony, this sonic buffet

settles an entire colony, erects a hematic empire

with just the treble. At the base, the motor

makes the lining wiggle. I feel it in my legs.

I connect it with my bones.

I distribute it through my system.

I extend it by nature.

I

invite you to step into this fruitful landscape, it is

our shared gift,

and it's not even our birthdays.

¿"Que es

esto"? Me rio. These streets are bilingual.

And they split the conversation. It's trans-

*national

*actional

*lated

*ladado por las venas

so that the rivers know how to flow.

Back on 375, I'm headed home.

Sometimes, with four walls

is how you need to end the night.