When I started I wanted to be Groucho Marx then I wanted to be John Lennon because they looked confident distinct alive in high school I wanted to be Tony Manero from “Saturday Night Fever” then I became Woody Allen and Richard Pryor because they helped me feel less ashamed that I wasn’t White or a Christian in college I wrote pointless plays trying to be Neil Simon and I tried to love as easily as Leo Buscaglia then I wanted to be an iconoclast so I tri...

My superpower- my gift from God- is the ability to see everyone else’s weaknesses sometimes I spot it immediately sometimes it takes a few words or a telltale action but sooner or later everyone eventually slips and I store all your weaknesses and I wait for the most opportune time to cast them upon my unsuspecting victims your vanity and crushing self-doubt your undersized genitalia your neglected childhood I immediately calculate for later sinister use be...

I pulled the card and it read: “If God could grant you any three things right now what would they be?” First, I just want to Know not know what others know but just to know. I see those unbothered by the apparent contradictions and inconsistencies and they can believe so why can’t I? Some tell me “maybe you’re trying too hard” like I’m trying to explain a joke or understand how a frog works by dissection: either way you kill it in the proces...

So I get up again with my head wet and bruised to try again and find something cool and sparkly and juicy in a day designed to be everything but those things maybe I’ll hear a song that will remind me of my long gone grandpa maybe an email will come and tell me someone bought a copy of my book maybe I’ll find the perfect pastrami sandwich maybe everyone I’m supposed to meet with will decide to resign and I won’t have to meet with them Maybe an unseen bird ...

On Saturday your mom died and she was 96 years old you were there every day of that last month as her sweet little Mexican heart faded away I called you that night and we only spoke for a minute and a half “Pop, I’m sorry about Grandma Trini” “That’s alright, mijo , she was pretty old and now she’s out of pain” “yeah, I know, but still… she’s in a better place now” “yeah” a long, heavy pause “well, I’ll let you go for now, Pop, but I’ll talk to you l...

I check around for poetry on cd but all I see are failed rappers and celebrity wannabees but I ain’t hip hop and I ain’t slam and I ain’t even feelin’ good about saying ain’t that’s not me I’m too old to be street and I’m too off-white to be black and I’m too brown to be white and I have too many college degrees and none of them in creative writing I have a lovely home on the hill with a 30 year fixed rate mortgage so where’s my pain? where’s my str...

I cannot see my way. It's dark and I reach out and up and around and I must be in a briar patch higher than my head during a moonless midnight. I feel about looking for the way and a voice tells me "do not trust your intellect" and another says "do not have blind faith" and still another voice is telling me to stop the search and yet another bids me forward so my progress out of this maze of confusion is painstakingly slow. God pl...

Five minutes on the snooze bar blinks by five minutes of early morning prayer is my investment five minutes of trying to hold back an orgasm so I don't come too fast causes a headache but five minutes of laughing with my daughter is medicinal and I hope the last five minutes of my life will come as a complete surprise if I could hold the red on the horizon for another five minutes if I had only reconsidered each one of my mistakes for another f...

The diplomat is Latin the gardener is Mexican the evangelical is Hispanic the Catholic is Mexican the bon vivant is Latin the mojado is Mexican the graduate is Hispanic the drop-out is Mexican bilingual is Hispanic Spanglish is Mexican El Torito is Hispanic a panaderia is Mexican and Taco Bell is garbage.

Will there be bibles in Heaven? or nations? or wallets? the first year in Heaven will be spent laughing at our previous imaginings of the afterlife and the Jerry Falwells the James Dobsons and the Pat Robertsons of this world will be there too looking for people to minister to but they won’t enjoy it so much because it really won’t be like they thought it would or should be and some of the inhabitants of Heaven will be expected --like the Christians who pro...

Happiness is a short-lived fancy chocolate kisses wrapped in coconut promises to be savored for a moment but once savored is but a memory I sit in the aftermath of happiness alone with my memories and try to discern their precise moment that happiness died nothing good ever lasts in its state of placid perfection for too long life stumbles in clumsy and inappropriately enthusiastic like foals in a crystal shop life is messy and loud and disruptive and th...

In case you’ve been too busy to notice: the currency in this culture is the promise of a quick fix to completeness the most obvious examples smiling laughing pairings engagement rings model homes baby clothes erections-on-demand life insurance policies and multiple orgasms of sexual and non-sexual natures are dangled in front of the money holders with a promise: buy this possess that master it and you will be complete. The carrot is always different but th...

My muse visited while I was taking a shower on Christmas Eve. "Hey, asshole, how long are you gonna ignore me?" I continued ignoring her. "Fine, you want it that way, just remember your songwriting drought of the early 90's. When I split that time you kept writing the same song over and over again with a hundred different titles. You think it's different this time?" I felt guilty but I just continued soaping up the crack of my ass "How about when you w...

In my previous coupling, finding the right Christmas card was a small but onerous task I’d approach the display with rows and rows of sentiment and imagery laid before me waiting to articulate all the things I should have felt: “I know I don’t say ‘I love you’ enough “ well, I did say it but I wasn’t in love anymore “I’ve loved every day with you since we met” that wasn’t true especially since her PTSD flared up in 1997 and our sex life became a memory ...

She drives me home when the night is dark and the highways are slick and teeming with indestructible teenage drivers lately I have become anxious driving in the fast lane or on overpasses or at night and I am embarrassed that I must ask her to take the wheel because I was brought up to be the man who takes care of everything so as I take my place in the passenger seat I thank God for this wonderful woman who has seen this weakness and still has not found me ...