CHIAPAS


        through the windshield
                  the highway slithers
        through the jungle…

        potential shortcuts,
                  boarded-up caves,
                            green rivers,
                  and trees
                            of cascading branches…

        I am driving
        through somebody’s home.










CASCADE


I am falling
in torrents

from in front of my eyes
behind

behind my eyes
to in front

of

from my eyes.