Emeniano Acain Somoza, Jr


Anima Mundi

In the beginning: nothing 
the helix of bios -- 

a Pollock on nonentity
spiralling, squiggling

verb was made flesh

(transmogrification, not tailoring 
should be the first art 

and dwelt among us 

as in u:s -- Trinity 
of the information 
highway reality 
rewarped, redefined, that is

the new cyber-time/space 
intertextual-age notion. 

Yes, us if you can find the Upright Eyes 
betwixt the Chomskian truncation
of The You, and linking verb as Hiss

or, wring-everything-out-for-all-its-worth
(cosmos is cramped, closed for comfort)
to get to your own meaning or, you lose 
your Being

then, you're back 
to the beginning
of everything: nothing.



Philosophy of Water

Your wars
shallower than all 
the world's childrens' 

miry puddles 

of mis(placed/u)sed 

Another word 
we are heaving you off

to the brim 
of unreason:

3/4 slug
1/4 amphibian

See you in your wet dreams.
Or, check your water sign.


No Warm Blankets Again Tonight

My clothesline hung low again today
Old trusty wind didn't come blowing
Through some needful implements

Ominously-hooded nimbus
Break into a million black ninjas
At the crack of thunderwhip

Falling with pinprick precision
picking scabs of fresh tiny wounds --
a special robe I wash and wear daily

Now old trusty rain comes
soaking wet again parched pathways 
shuddering dainty flowers in my vase.

Later shaking cold and dripping wet
I shall lay myself to sleep 
as my trusty visitor knocks at the door.




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