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)