Posted in Poetry, tagged Sergio A. Ortiz on 08/04/2010| 1 Comment »
Think of me as Dionysus,
home resting, with a fetus in my leg,
as lasting less than a candle or a rock.
This road we travel is a gust,
a shake, an unexpected vibration
on earth’s surface — it does not fancy us here.
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Posted in Poetry, tagged Sergio A. Ortiz on 01/12/2009| Leave a Comment »
I’ve spoken to my hands before,
whenever I’ve had visions
of Hitler with a hose up his rectum
in hell. My laugh reaches new limits.
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