bubbles

Was talking with my sister tonight and these lines bubbled to the surface while we were talking...because this is my blog, I am slapping them down...to whatever purpose, whatever end...

I’m lost
mendicant
and so I’m dreaming
wordlessly trailing thoughts through the treacle-feeling

sueños
of bannofee pie
and the creamy earthy orangeness of cooked swede

of biting chill on the last pitch
of Exum Ridge
and torn and frozen fingers reaching
of Wyoming blue and rumble-thunder fog glaring white and brilliant

of ice-driven waters
that climb down my waders
of fish slime and trout smell
and flashing glory
brown and rainbow and brook

of plátanos fritos
y la yuca prodigiosa
y dos hojas de coca en un vaso con agua hervida

¿cómo puedo yo
siendo como Lazarillo
encontrarme en un
tal Fulano día
con los sueños de
mis ojos vivos?