MEXICO NOVEMBER 2008 by A.D. Winans
Alone in my hotel room
In Mexico, thirty-six hours
Before my flight back
To San Francisco
A hundred blank poems
Rattling around inside my head
I can turn them
Into paper airplanes
Fly each one to imaginary places
Or write poems on them in vivid old
Mexico song rhythms
If I could draw
I’d draw a rainbow picture
Of beautiful Indian women
With faces brown as earth
Soon I’ll return to San Francisco
City of dreamers drunkards
And lonely lovers
I will turn these blank pages
Into poems fished from the
Pond of my memory bank
Baited with the history of old
Mexico
This entry was posted on June 19, 2009 at 4:44 pm and is filed under A.D. Winans. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
June 19, 2009 at 4:46 pm
First appeared at Black Shark Press.
June 20, 2009 at 4:22 am
Favorite line:
A hundred blank poems
Rattling around inside my head
I know that one.
Thank you Sir.
– –
Okay,
Father Luke