he looks like he could use a government blanket una manta del gobierno, por favor

and hot cocoa and

an FBI agent tiki-like by his side reconfortándolo, and some wreckage, but he’s only got

why, the wreckage;

like a baby weeping dentro del vientre in the womb

quiet and still en puro silencio he is crying

so he’s there thinking his way through today’s debris

and he’s expecting no blanket or cocoa –

he’d welcome them, though, sin pedirlos

but then, what?

(Santa Barbara, CA, 21 Feb 2014)