Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
Lost in the Dream
It weighs on me,
your vanished smile,
at twilight in
the intimate hours,
I let the day run its course.
Farther away,
my tongue freezes.
Autumn comes
along and I sleep. I am a
shepherd
in my dream. Loose words
and secrets spill from my tongue.
I am lost in the dream
or the nightmare,
where disorder
echoes throughout the
darkness of my mind.
I am born into a death,
where birds fly
into the sun
and die as well.
My voice does not
make any sense
and I forget simple words
like stars and windows.
I am born into life
dreaming of death, and
tasting something bitter
with my frozen tongue.
I take flight towards the sun,
where the birds of my dream
die without
anguish.
They just die
in my dreams.
I hear murmurs.
Maybe I should fly too.
Fast asleep
I am always flying.
Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal © 2009
I Will Not Take Tylenol
I will only take Tylenol.
However, my head would have
to feel like if it was coming
clear off for me to take it.
I will not take Haldol or
any other pharmaceutical
poison that is offered to me.
I don’t care if it is free.
I will not take showers in here
because I know the showerheads
have been tainted with powder or
liquid psychiatric drugs.
I will not shave my beard or take
my watch off. My beard is my
strength. I always keep my watch on
to keep those who hold me on
notice. I will remind them of
the illegality of their
actions upon me, a sane man
accused of paranoid thinking.
I am not a threat to anyone
or myself. I will only take
Tylenol. Do not insist on
giving me anything else.
Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal © 2009
