Caracas Notebook

I work with
listening to
blind trilling
              next door
tree perch desk
lights quantum
presence I inhabit

Dark served on rain
Open atrium windows
Discuss your biography
feature film
Your page was shuffled
as the lights begin to glow
across the smaller valley
language will dissolve
air residency patterns


"Cada vida es una historia," said Iris’s abuelo this afternoon at their house in La Trinidad. It has been over 22 years since we last saw them. Their backyard garden has guanabana, mango, lemon, grapefruit, orange trees that reach up beyond our heads now, decades hence. Across the street from our former house in what’s called La Trinidad, at the foothills below Las Minas and before La California’s condominiums. A southern stretch of undeveloped valleys, hyper capital between 1979-1981, to school through empty fog every morning in the mountains.

Air texture
           digest or notebook

Will she float up the escalator
pausing to listen the clouds
time rain down the mountain
               across avenue traffic?