Taxi drivers carry saints and tourists to their shrines. Each peso is a wafer. When the hat vendors head home, they take a little wind and whistle. By night, we all dream. Spiral up in moonlight, air boiling against our bellies.
Odor billows from the ground.
His poetry has also been published in Wilderness Magazine, Fine Madness, Puerto del Sol, the Seattle Review, convolvulus, and several anthologies. He has poems pending in Willow Springs and Many Mountains Moving.