Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His poetryhas appeared in Blue Collar Review, Mad Swirl, Unlikely Stories, and YellowMama Webzine. His latest poetry book, Make the Water Laugh, was publishedby Rogue Wolf Press in 2021. His other books and chapbooks have been published by Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New Polish Beat, Poet’s Democracy, Propaganda Press, Pygmy Forest Press and Ten Pages Press (ebook).
I still have fewer gray hairs than brown on my thinning noggin. The trembling has not started yet. Soon, very soon, that may change. Life is not everlasting. I do my share of dreaming and have mad escapades. I hear the wind whisper, get ready. I cannot be sure it is the wind. It could be the brilliant stars or the little birds that whisper, get ready. I know that plants do not speak.
The night moon was as small as a grain of rice. The light it shone was a speck too tiny to see. Each night the moon and Its light grew much smaller. With a broom a witch could sweep away the moon and its light to the famed Never-Never Land. The night moon and its speck of light is almost out. I watch it as it becomes extinct. The two of them, the moon and its light, are no more.
Kill the Disillusioned
Kill the disillusioned. Destroy the night that hangs in silence. Punch a hole through words and the heart inside. Break the mirror of eyes. Evoke fear and doubt. Skin the light from the sun and veil the sky in darkness. Leave a trembling spirit in limbo. Take the splendor of Spring and fill it with Autumn’s dead flowers.