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I want to hear your dreams
Crunch beneath my feet.
Celos, cielos, are infinite.
I am scared of death.

I clutch at thoughts like weeds.
Secretly, I enjoy the sun.

Streets in San Francisco smell
Of earthquakes and piss.
Someone sells T-shirts, black-and-white
Photos, Jimi Hendrix with a cigarette.
This sticks in my mind.

A kid in South America
Tried to sell me gum at beggar's price.
Hands in my pockets, I told him,
No.

Flat writing tastes of paper.
Sand smooth tongue -
I chew on it.

I saw a meteor shower
But remember the street light.
Ink-blot clusters of bugs
Died warm.

When it snows, I can pretend
Everything is new.

Once I plucked my eyelids bare and they made
Sounds like a lizard when I blinked.

Sometimes I want to build a fire
And hear Jim Morrison's voice
Tell me about the fall of mankind,
Low and hypnotic, over the flames.