BY CJ BEAUCHAMP
and so i sit here
dreaming of egypt
or another place
read a million times over
sitting at a million tables
feeling the pulse
of coffee flavored feedings
for coffee flavored minds
yearning to walk away
into the sun
asking why i sit here
spending long caffeine evenings
dreaming for you
loudly lulling my soul
into the dust of foreign pain.
MCALLEN: EARLY RENEWAL
waking before dawn
i stumble into early morning humanity.
warm dust and hot breezes,
the only companions to
southern hued skies.
i wander through
roughly greened orange groves,
hungering to chase back the day.
it would be wonderful to be green and transpiring
surviving up from the asphalt
but i am here
chased indoors by a victorious sun
porcelain crisped and batter-fried in 90 degree midday
i arrive on the second floor
just a ceiling fan
threatening to take down the house in its haste
and an aloe plant
near death from high levels of heat
low levels of love
fermenting beside the fireplace
THOUGHTS ON YOU.
(IN TWO PARTS)
though you arrived more ignored than embraced
this morning shall find me wrapped in wind
looking after your comet through spring rains.
not until drifting through your ink-soaked ashes
did i find what you so often presented to me
devourment within your lifeline.
coursing the anemic path of my rhythm
i wake without you
and sleep in your watery memory.