Off the City Grid

I am off the grid as always

taking time, wandering,

exploring and simply breathing

sometimes crumbling..

under volcanoes and baking chicken,

cold summer kitchen nights,

shoes beer park lights, cement like we’re young,

free world and alone souls in the Santiago dark,

rain lightly falling over the city, foglights green through mist

and we are leaking boats, holding each other

to stay afloat.

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To Know

toss and turn,

go the nights

in the waiting room

for life.

desperate

for new faces,

to climb mountains,

to leave.

I live on the edge

of “almost”

and danger,

all sense lost.

I live in a spiral

of delusions and dreams,

illusions and love,

hope and dread.

my soul will not

stop churning

until we set sail

and know.

Just to know–

how the streets will make me feel,

where his love will make me want to be,

why I gave up every bit of

reality

to know the worth of my small dream

For you

I will cross the Paraná

what’s death in the face of love?

“a soulmate is someone who challenges you”

I prepare for malaria and draw my blood.

never thought I could be brave

you said I was an alma aventurera y valiente

can you love me through my fear?

I will be with you through the rogue night.

and I have been through endless summer

I would stand at the side of the road with you,

and live on hope alone…

tonight

sangria, french fries, nightly waffle and syrup.

nocturnal, alive, bustling at 4 a.m.,

empty apartment, in the dark,

in love with your soul;

we are apart and together,

I taste your love, like God–

from the wind.

someone died in the ocean today

from lightning,

and people fought in the street,

bloody cement and videocameras.

you are cold as your sister yells,

swimming through the snowy Andes,

drinking loose sky diamond stars,

and we are alone

in our fears and our sleep.

but I love you–

 

Hollywood

we spin through the nights and streets

after hours Venice Beach. 

sabe que no podemos seguir asi,

fuera de control.

he has strong arms 

like my father, 

so I hold him close and ask him

to walk with me through the rogue 

beach night, 

drive me home beyond the

summer bar fights.

we live in a jungle

of dim red lights and

whisky on the job.

we sell our smiles to get tips,

a Hollywood family;

shining with gold and tears.

he’s handing me a stack of bills

because he can, he calls himself

God and El Rey of Venice Beach.

he’s fire now;

one day he’ll be ashes.

their eyes are red but 

I’m the one crying

and I know I am far away from home

as wordless tangos deafen

my doubts and the screams of my soul.

Los Angeles cries and her eyes shine

like skyscrapers and starlit dreams.

snow from far away falls upon her empty Hills, 

but we stay warm and dry, and

at daybreak we’re left with dust

and masks to wear til sunset.

Soy la princesa, 

alone in the bar,  

maybe I’m rich now because I live off nothing–

and kisses and loopholes and vino rojo,

but I’ll be leaving soon.

maybe I’m drunk because I have nothing,

and now I’m full of everything.

hope on the road

sitting on her couch, watching movies on my laptop

Energy drink, styrofoam pasta bowl on the table

only the kitchen light on,

wish I had a place of my own.

she makes a cake in the LA night

talking in her apartment under yellow light

I’m still on the road

and I’ve been living off of hope.

between my dreams of Chile and Argentina,

my heartland mountains calling to me,

and my chicana mornings of platanos and crema,

it’ll be forever difficult to choose.

I miss his arms and my city’s soul

but I will long for the nights here,

I am sure I will need

my city of angels once more.

I am sticky with fever and

dizzy with dreams;

missing her

humid nostalgic memories…