Slicer Glory

**Please note this poem was written by Jespah Lara Ramos.

the cubes are still
living of split-cleared stems,
the graving slings hinge,
and no one remembers
my dog.

i've been a long way off the bones
and there is no slicer glory left,
save the plague to dream
of serpent sleep.

the dice are rolled
as my feet bleed to dusk
and the name sings praise,
and my astral lungs converge,
and the secants in my eyes
are of no value.

and no one remembers
my dog.

Verb Colors

I yellowed when you scowled at me
on the open plain as we grayed large buffalo.

Once they had red themselves,
My face blued over and over, shaking and dancing.

Had we been able to green instead,
perhaps nothing would have needed mixing.

We moved on, orangeing the tee-pees from the ground
and pinking the harmony of the Earth with grit.

I look beyond, ahead and behind at the
ground which we blacked so miserably.

I feel much better when we violet something;
the hue is forceful yet wise, unlike other hues.

I slept inside and while we browned,
time stood still and peace surrounded us again.

Semana Santa Muerte

Peeps and chocolate and
Católicos hambrientos de carne
all reap the guilt of love and sins

Pastel ovum cover gifts
sent by Pagan lapins with glee
y la sangre de Cristo

Rezan por sus almas perdidas
while we steal energy from the planet
and take it to the Underworld

"My Summer Vacation" by Isyemille Lara

One day, I went on an airplane.
It was the first day of Summer Vacation!
"Vroooom!" went the loud airplane.
Also, I had a suitcase.
The airplane was full of people with suitcases.
Then we landed and I smiled.
The ocean was gray and had fish.
I asked my friend,
"Do you have one pale?" so I can dig a castle?
Then we slept in a hotel with an
ice machine and game room.
I like the ocean and airplanes.
My Summer Vacation was fun and I like it.
The End.

70's Chola

Magnificent chola moxxy
combines treachery confidently.
Huge tacky hoops
swing , calling sexily,
escuchando with enthusiasm.

Bangs follow boldy
proving with pandemonium
loyalty and looseness.
Gigantic words gouge
all others attempts.

Vato, come on, vavoso!
Undulating curves utter
jargon creating jumpiness
without grammar woes.
O sea, ese, Órale!

Trousers flaring triumphantly;
Femininity underlines ferocity.
Deafening laughter discounts
reputations and risks.
Nice, but naughty.

Interesting and inticing,
Queen of quirky
kicks and krumps.
Zoot-suiters look, zipping
yellow flies, yelling,

Hiccup

I suspect you’ve heard this before:
I love you, I love who you are, it’s only just that
once in a while, things get so so so
ccccomplicated.
Tired at night and in the morning,
conversations gather speed and volume;
can’t you keep your voice down?
I’m not trying to (insert complaint) but
once in a while, things get so so so
emoooootional.
Screaming and shouting,
while remaining silent, is a skill
one must learn in order to be in love.
I love you, I love who you are, it’s only just that
once in a while, things get so so so
bOOOOOOOring.
Action falters, inertia takes over
and our natural progression
seems to stop progressing and simply floats.
We hiccup along, wanting to play but
once in a while, things get so so so so so so
ancient.
Our patience is met and matched by
our stubborn intolerance for failure.
I love you, I love who you are, it’s only just that
once in a while, things get so so so
nostalgic.