January 2006 /Volume Seven / Issue One
Luis Rivas
A Warm Rain Falls, a Hummingbird Goes Insane

a tiny hummingbird
emitting strange
squawking noises darts
up and down, thirsty
and sucking
desperately
on the dead
tree branches
that loom over the pool;
lunacy can be a form of survival.

i called in sick today;
my left foot is broken, boss.

a warm ten-minute rain
falls as I sit
outside in 102 degrees,
the air like invisible mud,
my keys locked
inside the apartment:

nothing makes sense
so I called in sick today;
my left foot is broken, boss.

i try
to convince CJ to get in
from the roof
through my bedroom window,
two stories up.

he says no.

there’s a dead roach
floating in the pool;
i pick it up
and give it to the ants.

the sun sets at 8pm,
turning all the clouds
as red as bricks;
clouds are giant red bricks
falling
very, very slowly.

i called in sick today;
my left foot is broken
and blue but looks
turquoise underwater.

In the pool
a girl splashes me;
I try drowning her;
she laughs.

I try harder.
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