Jose Armando Guzman

Four walls of adobe.

Those four walls were
painted a light green
...

These adobe walls hold
all of yesterday inside.
It is all just dust and
empty tears.
...

I can still feel the air of that March evening.
My hands still shake whenever I recall
that somber little reunion.
I had not expected to see you anytime soon.
...

Her smile spoke to me.
The shine of her essence spoke to me.
It was the way she held her book
as she read that sent a shiver
...

...

...

Welcome to Arizona.
This is the land of privatized prisons;
paid for by your tax dollars.
We do not fund education.
...

All I could hear was the voice
that has long since haunted me.
'Tucson to Cuidad Juarez now
boarding'.
...

There has been an itching inside of my head
going on for a while now,
I have tried to ignore it,
and just push it down into the void.
...

Congress was beneath our feet as
we strolled down Fourth Avenue
and headed for a night of excess.
...

It was a moment of chance,
a game of luck,
and then she appeared in my horizon.
Like the frozen, dreaming,
...

I can still recall the cold air as it breezes
by those memories held inside
for so many years.
I wonder if the ground appreciates
...

The whiskey was always
flowing at the Painted
Lizard Cafe.
...

The reasoning escapes me tonight.
Memories are flowing through my
veins and tasting tears with
every heartbeat.
...

I'm waiting for the moon to shine
bright in the horizon.
Maybe I should get on the hound
or take the train somewhere past
...

Rode the hound down into New Orleans,
days spent in Ozona
sleeping through the memories.
Texas was one big dust storm
...

I can still remember your avenues
and the rhythm of your heartbeat.
The traffic did not take one
thing away from the passion
...

That terrible motel room
holds so many memories
and broken dreams.
The walls are tainted with
...

Forever was
those few moments as the
bottle was first opened.
Fresh, just like the new
...