Baby Roach

I love Houston.
I love the forest and the mountains too.
I was raised in the suburbs that reach for an hour into another bubble’
where Butterflies veins are small and softened by a moth ball;
that’s where the stamp of the devil stays stuck under a rock.

I love Houston.
I love it like the pain in my left elbow.
I woke up this morning and became a snapdragon mother of four.
--
Then I smirked with incorrigible hope and it lit another night
That ended with a twinkle on my tooth from Gabriel’s whole blinding lot.
His hot red hair holds the hidden gold; and instead, I get to love the way he welcomes us with his wheat

He is fertile and young and twitches his neck with flaxen waves, that must and feed till sweet.
my left arm is a stewing dragon that breathes- steam in his sleep
my right arm the tiger that pounds- south tides without using her paws
the current slinks within many ripples and another heat wave climbs up to silence Austin---
And to burn the claws-age back down and to the West.

I love the city that always sleeps, the infant that cries and craps.
I love the air that won’t kill me till I’m dead and the
roaches that fly in my head.

I love Houston.
The forest and crumbs of it too.
Jacked to the right, it was raised into whatever,
if just for the hour,
to now bleed an even means of your
hot complaint that procures--
As it reins in the
love.
-

06/25/2006

Author's Note: A little different and finally the way i wanted to say it :) Is crap a bad word? My mom never thought so but my dad did sometimes??? I can see now that I'm really inspired by every comment. (This kicks bo-honkus' ass.) :P weee! I had fun with all kinds of movement looking out my window now that the incredibly beautiful rain clouds moved on... oh, the richness of an emptied head. :} (sigh)

Posted on 06/25/2006
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