EVERY MORNING
http://www.maverickmagazine.com/articles/298/1/EVERY-MORNING/Page1.html
Albino Carrillo
Albino Carrillo is an Associate Professor of Poetry and Creative Writing in the English Department of the University of Dayton. His one book is IN THE CITY OF SMOKING MIRRORS, published by the University of Arizona Press. Over the past 21 years, his work has appeared in national literary journals such as The Americas Review, Puerto Del Sol, The Antioch Review, Blue Mesa Review, and Columbia. By Albino Carrillo
Published on 02/19/2005
1.
Every morning
I take little
white pills to save me
from rage
rage against
the fuckers who bought
the election
this time
rage against
the black
cops who beat me
Every morning
I take little
white pills to save me
from rage
rage against
the fuckers who bought
the election
this time
rage against
the black
cops who beat me
"Deep inside my heart I know I can't escape"
--Bob Dylan
1.
Every morning
I take little
white pills to save me
from rage
rage against
the fuckers who bought
the election
this time
rage against
the black
cops who beat me
left me burning
in the back seat
of their vomit
stained car
where other
men were bruised
abused by these
satanic blue skinned
fuckers who bought
my last rights
and burned my civil
rights into the stars
so that they
could smoke all
night and laugh
about the pain
in my wrists
in my brain
2.
The inward journey
is the outward
journey even
in Hoboken
While I was dreaming
about Walt
Whitman in the hallway
of my brain
located in south-western Ohio
a thought more
like thin smoke
spoke and this
is what is was:
you must
go away, take
the photos
the beautiful
barefoot photos
your smile
in front of the chimney
3.
When I told you
I was broken
I was upset
you see and hoped
to touch you
somehow in the evening
when from Hoboken
you were looking
at the short, shot
lights of Manhattos
where Melville
is still a ghost
I waited
all night
for you to write
4.
I wouldn't say
I was raised
on romance
I wouldn't say
I was laid-out
in France, unable
to cope
What dope
in his infernal
confusion
confused your letter
for love
5.
Exit wound
like a tunnel
through
my body
is what you wanted
Am I
some sort
of trick
Am I fool
to the sort
of hanging
words
you leave
Copyright © Albino Carrillo, 2005. All Rights Reserved.
--Bob Dylan
1.
Every morning
I take little
white pills to save me
from rage
rage against
the fuckers who bought
the election
this time
rage against
the black
cops who beat me
left me burning
in the back seat
of their vomit
stained car
where other
men were bruised
abused by these
satanic blue skinned
fuckers who bought
my last rights
and burned my civil
rights into the stars
so that they
could smoke all
night and laugh
about the pain
in my wrists
in my brain
2.
The inward journey
is the outward
journey even
in Hoboken
While I was dreaming
about Walt
Whitman in the hallway
of my brain
located in south-western Ohio
a thought more
like thin smoke
spoke and this
is what is was:
you must
go away, take
the photos
the beautiful
barefoot photos
your smile
in front of the chimney
3.
When I told you
I was broken
I was upset
you see and hoped
to touch you
somehow in the evening
when from Hoboken
you were looking
at the short, shot
lights of Manhattos
where Melville
is still a ghost
I waited
all night
for you to write
4.
I wouldn't say
I was raised
on romance
I wouldn't say
I was laid-out
in France, unable
to cope
What dope
in his infernal
confusion
confused your letter
for love
5.
Exit wound
like a tunnel
through
my body
is what you wanted
Am I
some sort
of trick
Am I fool
to the sort
of hanging
words
you leave
Copyright © Albino Carrillo, 2005. All Rights Reserved.