January 2006 /Volume Seven / Issue One
Miguel Garcia
The Lights are On

in my last dawn i have my
sunglasses tea-shades reflections like laser-beams
in love and waiting
sipping the whiskey bottle,
     cigarette in tow
sailing my way too the cemetery
and drawing my requiem mass on my wife's back
as she brushes her hair

traffic stops as i cross her spine
i am a shadow of horror and cherub scars
the center line is infinity and indecision
between eternities rising
but i'm past that
and standing where one sees me

she'll giggle when i reach her lower back
and breath a little deeper when i kiss her neck