Consider this Italian sonnet
a creative expression of my love
for a lady with hair so thick it
shoves
and stomps its way past Texas
bluebonnets
till it sees its lush strands
with red on it
and my heart enwrapped, laid bare
like a rug
caked with dust, dirt, bug guts
and smears of blood
shed from years with wrong women,
doggonit.
Our lunch-hour chat of
self-immolation
cracked a hole in our leaking
souls unknown.
You asked if I wanted to come over.
I brought Macbeth, feature presentation.
We spilled onto your floor naked
and prone
where we laid spent, sore,
content, drunk, sober.
Alex Z. Salinas lives in San Antonio, Texas. His short
fiction, poetry and op-eds have appeared in various print and electronic
publications. He is the author of a full-length collection of poetry, WARBLES.
He serves as poetry editor of the San Antonio Review, and holds an M.A. in
English Literature and Language from St. Mary's University.
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