You are in your own feet, here and endlessly.
This day should be called “Effort day”,
Now I have anyway drink a non-alcoholic beer
And on my arms I carry the wonderful world
Far from the flowers
My middle finger rises like the sun.
I found fear and anxiety in those books when I read them
Even if by some reason I would have been the antagonist.
You know, I wouldn’t kill a fly in my tortilla de harina
Question word? The issue is that I must be a rhymester
I have to do math, count syllables, and look
For ending words? That’s too much work!
I have to ignore that, I have to do laundry, draw and paint,
Record some voices and play the synthesizer,
Wash the dishes, sweep and mop, read books, go running,
Go swimming, ride my bicycle, continue yoga,
Find a place to meditate, keep vegan, cook for myself,
Appear in classes, do the homework, plan Spanish classes,
Teach at 8:00 A.M.? They killed me again!
And the most difficult, find a wife that can say, “Yes”.
Everything has to be perfect, and I have to improve my
Second language; I am tired of making grammatical errors, mistakes!
I just want to win the lottery! And make people happy!
But how can I be lucky?
(Work harder my dear, work harder, and work, ha!).
But I am not new pork in the city!
I should get away from the storm
Eat a carrot hot dog that is free of gluten
I should wear black tie when I lack of time
Wear a nice coat
While I surf in Rockaway Beach listening to The Ramones
Hide my poems in the wooden trunk
Go back to my office in the Department of Spanish at NYU
On 13-19 University Place
I should be ready for any relax intellectual discussion
Am I a poet?
When was the first day I became one of them?
Is this poetry?
Take me serious, I am a man.
I have been typing before I get published
For over the world, and I vaguely smile,
Trees will be cut down and transform into poetry?
So, you can read for an hour or two my poetry?
I need to take a break,
I can’t type an epic poem on this matter.
Am I a man or a future father?
My hands all over the place,
Yes! Yes! I know.