the best driver I knew

he was the best
driver
I knew

drove better than some
people walked

he was so sure of
himself behind the wheel
you'd think he could pass
the damn truck through the eye
of a needle

And I sat on the passenger
seat and
just listened to his stories

man, he had a
lot of 'em

and most were about his
wife
who was 19 years younger
than him

He used to tell me that she's
complexed by the fact that one
of her breasts is significantly
larger than the other

that she drinks
too many energy drinks

can't have sex without
background music

never learned how to
drive

had an abortion at 17
but is pro life now

cooks eggs
in the air fryer

wants a pet dog one day
and changes her mind
the next day

can pee standing up

and many, many other things

I didn't learn so many
intimate things about my
own girlfriend

and the way he'd talk about
his woman
made you feel like you
were the one
living with her

he'd talk about it so much
and with such openness
that at the end
of the shift you'd
think you don't even need a
woman in your own life anymore
You're good with
hearing so much about his

So it's no wonder
that I miss working with the guy
so much

I really meant it when I said
he was the best driver
in the world

He didn't just drive better than
other people walked
but he drove better drunk
than most people sober

And that's the thing with him

He drove drunk a lot

If everyone was as good
at drunk driving
it would've been legal

But nope,
we do not live in an ideal world

The law didn't care that
he never made a mistake while
driving like that

So he was left without his
license
and that left him without the job
and it was over

he wasn't much good
at anything else

and what's even worse
He got put into prison

The man just wouldn't
give up driving
drunk
and with no license

they caught him once
twice
and I guess the third time
they had to stop him for
good

Well,
they did

and I head he doesn't have it
good behind the
bars

"He got a big tattoo of
that woman of his
all across his back," said the guy
who replaced him and now
drove his truck, "An' problem is
she a pretty one.
You know why that's a problem
when you're going
to prison?"

"I can imagine," I said

"Yeah, better just imagine it
and leave it at that..."

Poor guy
his problem was that
he lived too happily in a sad, angry
world
and the world sought to
do away with him

It appears that the world
has won this
battle

but after all that time
spent with him
in the truck
I know him too well

The world might have won the
fight
but not the war

not with this
guy
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "the best driver I knew"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

no other heaven I need to grind for

“The days pass like fallen
leaves into the
river, under the bridge,”
he says
and thinks that it’s
the deepest shit
one can utter
about life

a life that he’s
so damn full of

He wakes up at 6 AM
every morning
and drinks water, stretches,
jumps a bit

goes into the bathroom
comes out
prepares a protein shake
spreads peanut butter on
a digestive cookie
ingests all that

goes to the gym

comes home

writes business ideas on
a piece of paper

He’s all about that hustle life,
alright

He’s 34 and ever ready
to give you
life advice

and then scold you
for not following it
correctly

He advised me to stop this
writer nonsense
I waste my days with
and start a family already

and I advised him
to get a job already
and stop living with his
parents

and he hasn’t spoken to
me since

I guess I’m a lost cause
in his vision

I like to wake up in
the afternoon
and then
lie in bed
daydreaming for a few
more hours

then maybe I’ll get up
and write something

or just lie in bed
for the rest of the
day
to be fresh for the
night shift ahead

I’ll be
alright

All I need are my words
and time alone

there’s no other
heaven I need to grind
for
Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "No other heaven I need to grind for"! 

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

the heart once broken

he was always the first
on the job
and the last to leave

silent guy

that's why I liked him

There were nine of us
and we had to move
furniture and
garden decorations
and other stuff for people
who changed their address

it was heavy physical labor
alright
so it's just normal to
sweat and stink

but he was on another level

I mean, the rest of us
we went home at the
end of the day and
we took showers

He slept in the
car

And I asked the others
why the hell did
he sleep in his car
when he lived in a big house
with his wife and
a little kid

and at first they didn't
reply
and the second time
I asked

which was much later

they told me
he doesn't go home
because there's his
wife and kid there

I was still too young
to get it

It takes a certain amount
of living life
to understand such things

I was nineteen back then
but sure didn't feel
like an adult

Actually,
I don't feel like an adult
today either

I'm just old enough
to understand why
he refused to go
home
and chose to sleep
in his car

It wasn't from him or
any of our colleagues
but one day I just came
across the saying,
'the heart once broken
can never, ever...'

and it just ends like
that.
The heart once broken can
never, ever...

Now everything makes a bit
more sense,
doesn't it?

and even if it doesn't
it makes you
want to leave things
as they are

for to seek to uncover the
world's mysteries is
to disturb the balance
of beauty

Just allow the world
to be what it will
and observe
but don't interfere

the sooner you
learn this lesson
the better
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "the heart once broken"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

why not allow a tiny fraction of magical realism in existence?

it’s a new world
every time you step outside
of your room

every time you
leave home

every time you
get out of your mind

Happened to him about
two days ago

he barely cared enough to
remember

all he knew now was
that he hadn’t been
outside for
at least two straight days
and nights
and hadn’t breathed fresh air

and the only thing pushing
him to emerge
was the lack of alcohol
in his system and in all
rooms of the house. All
three of them
indeed

alcohol was a good enough
substitute for
company

Alcohol and just a dash
of good music. Never loud

He’d been replacing company with
alcohol and music
and dreams
for two straight days
and nights

Why do lovers just get up
and leave?
he wonders now

What happened to trying to
fix things?

When did giving up become
the only solution?

Eh, questions for
another day,
another time

a less sober time
maybe

for now he leaves the apartment
building behind
and relearns how to
walk
as he makes his way
towards the grocery store

the sight of a couple of
trash cans around
the corner
reminds him that he would’ve
taken the trash out

he stops a bit

considers whether he should
turn
back or keep going

the impact of fresh air
and soberness makes
him dizzy

for a heartbeat he thinks
he’s hearing voices

but no
he’s not gone that
far yet

the voices are as
real as he is

coming from behind
the trash cans

saying, “This one. I could
eat this candy bar
for the rest of my life. I could
eat a villion of ‘em!”

“You don’t even know
what it tastes like.”

“But look how cool it looks.
It’s out of this world!”

“I bet it’s crazy expensive,
too.”

“I seen a wrapper
in the can once.”

Just two street urchins
drooling over
the crumpled, faded pages of
a food magazine

He made the briefest eye
contact with them

continued on his way

The grocery store
was unchanged. Beer was still in the
beer aisle. Fruits still
in the fruit aisle.
Oh, and candy bars. Close by.
The ones those kids were
talking about

What in the hell was
this supposed to be?

A kind of
sign?

Those two kids probably never
ate a candy bar
in their lives

What if he actually got
them some?
How would that change their
lives?

He began feeling like
the protagonist of
a goddamned family movie
where Christmas miracles
happen or some
shit like that

Well
what the hell?
There was no law stating that
movies and reality can’t cross
each other a bit

Why not allow a tiny fraction
of magical realism in
existence?

He bought four of
the damned candy bars
along with a six pack of
the cheapest brand of
beer

paid

got out of the
store and
said, “Well, fuck.” when he
came to the trash cans
and the two kids
were no longer there

Yeah. Fuck magical realism
and divine intervention
and Deus ex Machina
or whatever the fuck they call
it these days

the universe
god
whatever
doesn’t work like that

nothing in this world
ever fucking works
the way human
mind intends for it to

Not. A damn. Thing.
Ever.

That’s why we have stories
and movies to keep
us entertained

The only way to control
reality is
to build another one, a model
of it. A fake one that
imitates the real thing
and works based on a
script

man cannot control
what he did not
create
for he too is but a
creation

The only way is to
give up

Let the world be
what it will be
and don’t interfere

He threw the candy bars
into the trash cans
one in each
and went back home

Enough interaction with
the world
for today
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "why not allow a tiny fraction of magical realism in existence?"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

pranked

12 AM
done with work

getting out of the
building and
heading home

There aren’t a lot
of people in
the streets
and I seem to be the
tallest one
around

“Bet you feel quite
safe from your
vantage point,” she says
inside my head

And I respond, “Life ain’t
about feeling safe.”

“Oh? And what’s it
about then?”

“Poetry?”

“Haha! I… can’t tell if you’re
being pretentious
on purpose in an attempt
to be funny or…”

“Or what?”

“C’mon, boy, revel in your
blessings a bit.
The lord had made you tall
and slim. Imagine how many
people can only dream
of having that. You have
long bones
and quite the ribcage, no?”

“The ribcage?”

“Yeah. You have a big rib
cage that makes your
belly look small, flat,
perfect.
Remember when you crossed the
lake just floating on
your back. That’s insane
lung capacity.
It’s a cool thing to have.”

“It is?”

“Hell ye. C’mon, fill it up!
Show it to the
world. Show ‘em you got
one huge ribcage, a big, big
protruding chest like
a rooster.
Would be a sin not to show
off when you truly have
something to show off,
don’t you find?”

“I’m against showing
off.”

“Oh, there you go. More
pretentiousness.”

“That’s being humble.”

“No, it’s being
pretentious.”

“Whatever.”

“C’moooon! Let’s do it
together. One
biiiiig inhale to puff
up that
chest real good right now.”

I’ll be damned. I actually did
it

while walking

Dragged a huge in-breath
and filled my
lungs with…

rotten air

I didn’t notice
I was passing by the
damn dumpster
and there was something
or many things
dead and rotting in there

rotten to the
point of
having flies and maggots
in the browned, gooey flesh

and I forcefully gathered
all that miasma
into my lungs

I gagged, my face wrinkling, the
guts in me twisting

I had to spit
lest I vomited

Dammit…

What the hell was
that?

Had I been…

pranked?

By one of my hallucinations?

Oh well, what else
could I do but
laugh along and move along?

I still love you
guys
Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "pranked"! 

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

the only freedom you have in this life stands in the level of importance you place on things

Last time I saw him
it was

I think

six days ago

not exactly a full weak

He was down bad
and that's
putting it mildly

His tragedy was the
tragedy of so many others

Wife left
and took the kid with her

Nothing new under the
sun

What is new under the sun
however is the way
he deals with it now

In these six short days
the man had
reached enlightenment
apparently

"You want a drink?" he asked
me

and I said, "Man, I thought you
quit after..."

"Nah. I didn't quit."

He mixed his favorite. Beer and
tequila
and passed me a glass over the
coffee table

I thanked him

One thing I was sure of

The man was not drunk. Not at
all

So it must've been something
else that
helped him recover and get
over the struggle

After the first glass
I asked him what it was

And he said, "Giving up."

I said nothing. Just
watched him

"Only the things you label
important can
hurt you. If it's not important to
you, it can't possibly hurt. That's
the secret to happiness and
everything."

"Well, you seem pretty happy now.
And I can tell it's
not fake.
So, how do you stop yourself
from making things important in life
when it happens involuntarily?
One can't just label one's family as
not important, right?"

"Wrong, young man.
The only freedom you have in
this life stands in
the level of importance you
place on things, including yourself.
You will be able to do it
when you learn and accept that
it's the only way."

Yeah, one day I'll
get it

but
I don't think today's
the day

I don't know
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "the only freedom you have in this life stands in the level of importance you place on things"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

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