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We had rubber slippers,

to captain on

torrential seas

of gutter rains

to ride as steed

on terrain rough

embedded with rocks

to pilot in

skies filled with

lightning and God angst.

We had rubber slippers

to break

as selfishly

as deliciously

we do promises.

j.anton-rios
 

Cigarettes

Picked from the vine,
dried and shredded,
aromas float
in ethereal plains
of nasal existence.
 

Packed in rolled paper,
two leaves become one,
filtered for life
and particulate dreams
of fleeting lungs.
 

Burned at the tips.
and eroded by flames,
crooked wings rise
as bitter ash dies,
life is but a stick.

j.anton-rios

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