Solar Wind

i smelled the sun
scent fennel sweet
fierce face melt heat
singing layers of rot
inside me as
million degrees
dissolved bitter
bones into surahs
burned kisses
on my neck
eyelids
hands

the hottest gust stream
promised
cardamom dust
and particles of you
inside me

       sun struck

i
became
molasses

Conversation in an Alley

[He watches her walk into the alley, carrying a red tulip, the same color as her dress. She walks steady. Each step deliberate. She sees him and smiles. He is relieved. She approaches him, and they sit cross-legged on the dirty pavement.]

Him: I've been searching for you. I didn't think I'd find you.

Her: I'm here. [She strokes his bearded face]

Him: I love you.

Her: There's more to life than love.

Him: How can you say that? You're here.

Her: That's irrelevant.

Him: I don't understand you.

Her: Do you want to be another floating body?

Him: What?

Her: Don't you want movement?

Him: I just wanted to find you.

Her: I've been here the whole time.

Him: But I couldn't see you until now.

Her: So how does that change things?

Him: I'm not sure.

Her: How can you not know, and be certain you love me?

Him: Why won't you just let me love you?

Her: Because you don't know what love is, until you start flying.

[She gets up, leaves the tulip next to him, and walks away.]

Splintered

i gave you my words
when i had nothing tangible
left a poem in your palm
with pretty pieces of me
that slipped down your fingers
into street drains
to flow with filth.

who am i to bleed over lost
words lost pieces
of me?

i know nothing
hold nothing
only broken shards of metal
and mangled reflections of self,
my words hollow
this poem a fragment of
emptiness,
i splinter infinitely.

Junot Diaz

I had the pleasure of meeting Junot Diaz at a writer's workshop last year. Though I wasn't participating in his class, I got the chance to have some interesting conversations with him. I can definitely say I haven't met anyone quite like him. He is a brilliant writer and an endearing person to know. And he has just won the Pulitzer Prize for his novel, The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.

I want to big up Junot on getting some serious recognition for his incredible talent. If you haven't read his work, you most definitely should.

ps. to all you comic nerds, his short story, Wildwood (The New Yorker, November 18, 2007), was illustrated by none other than Jaime Hernandez (of Los Bros Hernandez).

Discursive Desire

Has anyone read Catherine Belsey's work on the postmodern condition and love? The article I'm thinking of is, Postmodern Love: Questioning the Metaphysics of Desire.

According to Belsey, "the post-modern condition brings with it an incredulity toward true love."

must know what she has to say. time to hit the library.

(to be cont'd)