Monthly Archives: March 2010

One Fine Day in Miami..

Miami FLA, 2004

(a phone can be heard ringing faintly amidst the blare of Judy Garland singing ‘over the rainbow’. Meanwhile, two men lie asleep and undressed, entwined on a large couch)

::sound of a man yawning::


“Ricky, it’s me, Alejandro, I have news”

(other man wakes up and begins to speak, but Ricky makes a soft shushing sound and indicates with his hand that Judy needs to be turned down)

“Ah..sokay, is something wrong?”

“Well, no, but a little jes”

(Ricky sits up a little now, dislodging his companion who pouts and crawls under the thin blanket they are sharing)

“Is everything okay Alejandro…are you in any kind of trouble?”

“No, no, Ricardo, mihijo, it’s about a song”

(Ricky settles down a bit, and a muffled wet sound can be heard under the blanket)

“Ahh, okay, ah…ha…tell me”

“Well, this guy, he wants to cover your song, “She Bangs”, we have a request from his label..”

“Okay, so take care of it..”

(Alejandro can be heard sputtering as Ricky leans back a moment and puts his free hand on top of the bobbing patch of blanket)

“B-b-uttt, Ricky, this singing, ay dios, es un chino Ricky, my ears bleed..!”

(Ricky holds the patch in place for a moment)

“Chino? really?”

“Jes Ricky, some chino, William Hung, we can’t let this happen”

(Ricky lets out a guffaw)

“Wait, wait, Alejandro, Hung..his name is really Hung..?”

(A muffled ‘mmhmmm’ can be heard under the covers)

“Jes, jes Ricky, okay, so I send letter back saying sorry but….”

“No, no Alejandro, that will not be necessary.”

(Alejandro sputters again)

“W-why is that Ricky..?”

“Tell Mr. ‘Hung’ that he has a green light”

(Giggles come from under the covers and Ricky struggles not to openly laugh)

“Ricky, mihijo, wait..”

“Make it happen Alejandro. If this ‘Hung’ guy wants Ricky Martin, then he’s got it!”


(Ricky and his guest fall off the couch laughing, eventually making it up from the floor some 6 hours later)


Soft pitter patter, music on my window,
Soothing sounds in nature found.
She serenades me every time I hear the wind blow,
Her gentle whisper, heard all around.

And I pretend to have a friend,
That talks to me most every night.
I hear her sing, my weeping lover,
And in my bed I hold her tight.

Awake at last I face the day,
My lover gone,
She never stays.

I sleepwalk sunlight,
Craving dusk and night,

And I only wish for days to end,
To lay beside my love again.


A long stretch of familiar road,
And I keep looking down it, or up it,
I might be on one side, or the other,
Either way, I know the bus is coming.

I might hop on for a little while,
Maybe just until the next stop,
Or I may end up a few towns away,
It picks me up, then drops me off.

I might wander off for a little while,
And see that bus pull in from too far away,
I’ll run and scream, wait, wait, please,
Don’t leave me.

Just stay a little longer,
But it never stays.

So instead I stay, and sometimes I’ll cry,
All alone in the bus stop,
And when it starts to rain, I feel better,
I look up and let those tears flow with mine.


Last night I watched them play in their jammies, just wrestling around and giggling, and making all sorts of high pitched noises. It reminded me of watching puppies rolling around, taking little nips at each other, and generally being all sorts of cute. It was absolutely beautiful.

Sebastian’s getting older so he’s more reluctant to ask for hugs and kisses, except at bedtime. Antonio is still a little mush though, and I squeeze him every chance I get. I do this because I know I don’t have much time left. Sebastian is climbing the roller-coaster track already, and Antonio should be hitting another spurt any month now. Before long, they won’t need my hand to hold to cross the street anymore, and squeezes and kisses will be something I will look back on, and wish so much that I didn’t miss so many of them. I wonder if I’ll hate her then. I’ll end up blaming her for taking so many moments from me, and I’ll die a lonely, young, and bitter man.

I have made so many mistakes with them. And I know no parent is perfect, and I am hard on myself.

Knowing this is no consolation whatsoever.

I start to break when I imagine them getting older, and lashing out at me for my shortcomings as a parent. Will they be bitter? Will they do the things I did? Will I be able to do anything about it? I know they love me now, despite my failings. But they are still just little boys. They will be bigger than me, and I’m fairly certain they are already smarter. When they begin to understand things fully, will they still love me?

So few are the moments when I can quietly appreciate them, being them. I stood there watching, and a question formed in my mind, ‘why was I ever so intent on cluttering this up?’ I jammed so much nonsense down their throats, and tried to fit people in places where they did not belong. I really wanted to be happy, but I wasn’t. I may have simply lost the capacity at this point.

My two little pups. Watching them talk, and play, and sleep is a pleasure. Perhaps this is pure assumption, but I approach every potential dating situation thinking they will be considered burdensome and inhibiting. It is because of this that I act the way I do, which is to say, a strong mix of enthusiasm, and reluctance. Many are understanding of facts, but few are truly able to appreciate what they mean. And some pretend to understand, but they fail to recognize the reality about to hit them. And some, are just monstrous, plain and simple.

So well meaning folk lay gems of advice for you to harvest and die masturbating with,

“You’ve gotta work on you”,

“You can’t rely on someone else to make you happy”,

“Sometimes you gotta just be on your own a while.”,



Thanks. And it always comes from (insert pal name here), whose been in a relationship with (insert name here), who looks like they just stepped off a runway in milan.

Easy for you to say friend.


So I’ll continue to soil paper towels, and bury my face into the two pillows that make one body. Because at the very least, I always awake with no regrets.

what are words anyway?

Let me tell you about the day I felt my breath slip away,
I mean, I might as well now,
I said it all anyhow.

How strange that you look for traces of you,
When words that some thought were meant for them,
Were solely written for you instead,

Hidden away, between the lines
Just like you, on the inside

Why speak, when it only makes me feel so weak,

Why seek, when I know you are already lost to me?

So hard to see that brown in black and white,
Plaid and brown buttons, if I remember right,
But no such photos of then remain to be seen,
I make them out of memories,

But how quickly my wind left,
When I saw that hand on your treble clef,
A passionate kiss that I knew I would give,
Instead I tasted regret as long as I lived.


Tu me conoces, eso es lo que dices.
Tu me dices, “esto te gusta, y esto es lo que quieres”.

Pero que poco sabeis de mi,
Y que solo me siento, siempre.

Que raro soy. Eso es lo que me dicen,
Adentro, adonde cuenta la cosa,
Hay siempre la pelea,
Tengo que ser asi, pero no soy de aqui.

Deja me ir,
Menos mis hijos, no tengo nada aqui,
Y me quedo porque no quiero dejarlos,
Pero que poco los veo, tan cerca que estan.

El tiempo se pasa, y cada dia,
Me quedo mas deprimido,
Dias van, y dias vienen,

igual, igual, igual.
sin esperanza, sin socorro.

For Linda

What a blessing it is, to call you friend,
To share your smiles, and tears,
A shoulder I will gladly lend,
To hold you close and face those fears,

So many times I sat alone,
Knowing not a soul,
Yet you could break me from that lonely place,
With just a smile, lift me from low,

It means so much to me,
To mean something to you,
So high or low,
I’ll see it through, right next to you,

I don’t know who listens, but gladly I will pray,
Please lend an eye to my lady,
This beautiful lady,
Keep her safe and strong, and out of harms way,

I did not let the tears reach my eyes,
Because for a short while away, I refuse to cry,
Days will pass, months will race,
Soon I will feel your warm embrace.

I miss you already.