I DON’T follow rules. It keeps the “format police” away, mostly.
But at times, I have to kick them in academic teeth.
I rode upon the highway — heat, dry-sweat today
Glided through a red light all the way to your
empty uterus parking spot. The organ grinder and
his spotted monkey entertained me while
I sat in a cadmium-baked car = oh Majora, my minora sweets
melting in a box next to me.
My lover we shall spend nights in La Rioja
and taste the best wines and dine upon feasts
in romantic bodegas so we shall stroll
the day upon the land at Casa Rural —
I hear her vineyards
are a magic potion
for heavy hearts!
I hope we miss
the Renfe and Alsa
that we may walk
across the treasure
of Rioja’s Region
and fall in love
while stranded within
a small town as the
last bus leaves
beneath a Spaniard night
These are the memories
I wish in La Rioja
:: 08-15-2014 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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