TWO POEMS – Devlin De La Chapa

Posted: April 1, 2012 in Fiction, Poetry
Tags: , , , , , ,

115 Degrees
Pushcart Prize Nomination

Beads of sweat
trickled down slow
between the perfumed citrus folds
of her beautiful round breasts
unbeknownst to the woman
innocently directing me to the nearest freeway
under a blazing sun of 115 degree weather;
and I almost envisioned myself on her
disguised as one of those perfect size atoms
of H2O evaporating into an open of a pore
uninvited, like rape after a date of kissing and no sex
only to proliferate in the end into a bead of virgin sweat.

“50 CENTS”
Originally published in CatFishGringoRiver

Bitch broke my heart
then she kicked me out,
said I couldn’t earn my keep.
I mean, how deep is that shit?
Or is shit supposed to be deep?

So I packed my things,
toothbrush and comb,
condoms and cigars,
my bike with the flat and
fitted them all into a backpack.

At a quarter passed nine

no money, no honey, no place to call my own,
I stood on the side of a curb,
flashed my abs and spat sloppy kisses to
the passing cars, trucks, SUV’s, black tinted limos
to steal a quick buck, but with no luck.

At a quarter passed one

I picked up a crusted payphone receiver,
a voice drawls a sleepy ‘Hello?’
‘Mama, Julie kicked me out.
I’m on the streets. I need a place
to crash, a place to eat.’

Mama then laughs
then the line clicks dead.
I stare at the receiver confused
but soon realize I accidentally blew
my last 50 cents on a wrong number.

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