Northern California, Pre Wedding, Post Graduation.

I am seated in a two bedroom condo in San Jose, California.
The condo houses a family of Immigrants, I have learned to use the word loosely.
The oldest, the grandfather, the father of my sister's husband
teaches the youngest how to walk on American carpet.
He trips over my American feet.
His eyes want to cry but instead he tries again, he has learned the world quickly.
The second oldest, the grandmother, the mother of my sister's husband,
speaks a mix of criminally broken English and beautiful Spanish.
From what I gather she is happy for my company.
My sister and her husband sit on the couch across the room and speak spanish,
It is the language of the household.
My mother and the second youngest, Edgar, sit on the floor making games with toy cars.
She speaks English to him in a baby voice,
that is the language of her household.
He understand enough of her baby English to know they are friends.

Loteria is a mexican kind of bingo, Edgar is a professional.
We play his games for hours and fill our stomachs.
The grandmother's food weighing heavy on our ankles my family leaves the condo.
My mother asks Edgar if he is ready to come visit Kentucky.
He politely says "no".
San Jose is his Home.

Coke In A Can

I've lost my taste,
For Coca-Cola In a can.
Water is just smooth.

Big Sur Animal

I smoke animals on the backporch
Overlooking Main Street.

I write poetry about my porch on a rock
Overlooking Pfifer Beach.

Relativity,
Blows My Mind.

Bats Behind PizzaHut. Lexington, KY

When I slam the door of my illegally parked car.
Bats fly over my head.
They came from the tree to my right
the one behind the dumpster.
I flinch and wonder if I am more afraid of their bite or their guano.
Bats are people.