He met her at the bus one day,  
Her smile like dawn, his heart astray.  
A fleeting glance, a laugh so bright,  
She lit the world in passing light.  

Her voice was soft, her words were few,  
Yet in his soul, a love he knew.  
But time was short, the ride too fast,  
Her stop arrived—his heart held fast.  

He watched her step onto the street,  
Her fading form, his lost heartbeat.  
His own stop called, the doors hissed shut,  
A silent ache, his soul left cut.  

If only time had paused awhile,  
Or fate had matched her steps to his mile.  
But buses run, and moments flee—  
Now all he holds is memory.  

A love untold, a chance undone,  
A station missed, a setting sun.

wing tips
tie clips
cufflinks every day
sorry ***
coffee run
meetings on the way

small favors
life-savers
rushing every day
long drives
sunrise
emails on the way

big-wigs
pack of cigs
problems every day
retainment
of ancients
cuts are on the way

clock ticks
lock clicks
pit stains every day
late nights
streetlights
baby’s on the way

yo gasto
tanta plata
en ir a entrevistas
en las que me preguntan donde vivo
y ponen cara de sorpresa
cuando estaba en mi currículum
cuando se lo dije en la primera entrevista
y ahora me escriben:
lamentamos la molestia
Pienso en el campo
y en un hombre fallido

work,
sleep
work,
sleep,
work,
sleep,
work,
then work again

stuck in this digital timeline
the days never passed
it’s always on repeat
like time is a concubine
living with wealthy billionaires
working endlessly day and night
making her ends meet
so nobody will know what day it is

who will make this world a better place?
huh, the rich only care for themselves
we’re disillusioned to the fantasy that money
will fix everything in a flash
a bandage on a wound, as they say
but it leaves gaps and crevices
it will never be healed from the blood it leaves
the blood will always fall like rain on a wedding day

i am not a robot who will end up in a dumpster
if i am no use to everyone
if i am no use, what i am then?
a entertainer?
a maid?
a office worker?
a human?
who i am?

There comes a time when it's all or none,                                                            ­        
                                                        ­                                                          
   when you don't want a bite or to even have some                                                
            ­                                                                 ­                                     
Some people I know say, that it's called greed,                                                      
                                                                ­                                                      
  but I believe it is fulfilling your own needs                                                            ­              
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                    
I always wanted more than some might,                                        
                                                                ­                                                
wished I had the wings to take flight                                                           ­ 
                                                                ­                                                  
There is nothing wrong in wanting to succeed,                                                         ­ 
                                                               ­                                                         
to set the goals that you want to archive                                                    
                                                                ­                                                   
 It's not like I take more than I can eat,                                                        
    ­                                                                 ­                                                 
I am just a little more hungry                                                           ­     
                                                           ­                                                     
That gleam you may see in my eyes,                                 
                                                                ­                                                        
may take some of you by
surprise                                                         ­                             
                                                                ­                                                      
If it makes it too hard for you abide,                                                          
­                                                                 ­                                                    
  I'll step over you & not ask you why

Some universal common ancestor,
Some roots we all share.
That's how it is, right?
**** some connection
To the natural world around us,
**** the universe.
It's in the symbolism of it,
It's by the reality of it.
What can one say?

We do what we can with what we're given.

I don't know about that,
But whatever brings comfort.

Some find comfort inside caskets;
Some in the idea of the end of it,
Some on the idea of a new beginning.

Some find comfort outside in nature;
Some in the idea of being a part of it,
Some on the idea of being apart from it.

It's recognizing you are already seperate,
Yet still totally together with it.