Born in Mexico, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poetry has appeared in Blue Collar Review, Impspired, Mad Swirl, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and Unlikely Stories. He is the author of Raw Materials (Pygmy Forest Press), Songs for Oblivion (Alternating Current Press/Propaganda Press), Peering into the Sun (Poet’s Democracy), The Book of Absurd Dreams (New Polish Beat), Before and Well After Midnight (Deadbeat Press), Keepers of Silence (Kendra Steiner Editions), Everything is Permitted (Ten Pages Press), In the House of the Butterflies (New American Imagist), and Make the Water Laugh (Rogue Wolf Press).

Inside My Head

I have nothing on paper.
It is all in my head,
and the words change
because I tend to forget.
To me it is better
when the words change.
Nothing is set in stone.
It is all interchangeable.
Day is night.
Night is day.
The witching hour
is a lazy afternoon.
Pig is a fly,
is a whistle,
is a spinning top,
and a chicken wing.
I have nothing on paper.
I set it on fire,
and with the ashes
I draw on a white wall
a circle inside
a circle inside
a square
inside my head.

Dreaming of Night

I sleep dreaming of night
and an ocean of salt
I drown in. I sleep dreaming
of night again and again
and on ocean of salt again
where I drown in. Please,
please, please, come to
my rescue. I want better
dreams. I request intervention.
I am afraid to sleep. I keep 
my eyes open as long as 
I can. I am in the dream before 
I know it. I am out at night
in my dream in an ocean of salt.

So Happy

I have been happy,
so happy without
knowing. That’s a
fact. I am so happy
with my life as it is.
I am coming to terms
with this and I will
not stop being happy
with this happiness.
Are you happy with
your life like I am?
I feel invisible and
without fear. I am
nothing and nobody.
I am loving this. I can’t
wait for tomorrow.
I am so happy
with my life as it is.