Windsor Guadalupe Jr Poems

Some people are sodden
And redundant.
This is a mad carousel -
Mount each vessel
...

If you hold this heart emblazoned
Past the veiled sonatas you call a home
Then I would much incarcerate every zone
With a fire that emulates from a Stockholm syndrome.
...

The stars are hoisted
Upon the picturesque azure
And they twine
To craft constellations
...

Do not look for me.
For I have not yet forgotten.
I have not sent the epistles
To oblivion just yet,
...

Your hair, a city of chestnut brown
With locks resilient like hands, steady ambidextrous hands
And the chamomile bliss and breeze in the land,
Subtly sit like an orphaned child
...

I walked with a tiger,
In his own maimed pace
And I found myself
Spineless,
...

The crooning
Of the clocks,
The redundant
Machinism:
...

Of books that never shall I read,
With a boundless taste to go threading,
Withdrawn from derision of austere pasts,
In the twentieth century decadence and lacking
...

Sitting on a porch
In splendid Paris as the doves
Guffaw and then scour -
We watch them flutter away
...

The zephyr propels the waters back to you,
While it whistles in a symphony of solemn dreams and nights
...