Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

I counted to one and fell asleep.
I did not take off my shoes.
I left footprints in my dreams.
The loan shark walked in
my footprints. An elephant
was in the room small as a flea.

Somebody called me pea brain.

Georgia was on my mind
or was it someone else?

I did not know where I was.
I did not know where to go.
I climbed to the top of a pine tree.

I did not fall.

Somebody called me pea brain.

I started eating grass.
I was going coocoo.
A crow on a telephone wire said
I argued with it for hours.

I heard a baby crying.
Wha, wha.

The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia
played on the only radio in the room.
There was a doctor in the dream
writing a prescription for Valium.

The window screen was filled with dust.

The loan shark took pity on me.
It was a real pain in the ass.
Dressed in a tux
the elephant in the room
walked with a limp.
It disappeared into a bush.

Georgia was sweet as a peach.

I heard someone say mmm.

The crow started a fight
that went into another dream.
It started a riot
that got out of control.
I threw a rock at it.
I threw a boulder.
I threw a pebble.
I had a cow.
I threw a fit.
I took a long breath.
I took pity on it.
I waved bye, bye.
And bam, the boulder crushed me.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.


Posted on March 25, 2012, in Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal, POETRY and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. The second of Luis’s poems, which I think is a great companion read to yesterday’s poem, which also features an elephant.

  2. Very clever :)

  3. A tongue in cheek poem at the loss of identity.

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