Lions in the street & roaming
Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming
A beast caged in the heart of a city
The body of his mother
Rotting in the summer ground.
He fled the town.
He went down South
And crossed the border
Left the chaos & disorder
Back there
Over his shoulder.
One morning he awoke in a green hotel
W/a strange creature groaning beside him.
Sweat oozed from its shiny skin.
Is everybody in? (3)
The ceremony is about to begin.
Wake up!
You can't remember where it was.
Had this dream stopped?
The snake was pale gold glazed & shrunken.
We were afraid to touch it.
The sheets were hot dead prisons.
And she was beside me, old,
She's, no; young.
Her dark red hair.
The white soft skin.
Now, run to the mirror in the bathroom,
Look!
She's coming in here.
I can't live thru each slow century
of her moving.
I let my cheek slide down
The cool smooth tile
Feel the good cold stinging blood.
The smooth hissing snakes
of rain…
Once I had a little game
I liked to crawl back in my brain
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called "Go Insane"
Now you should try this little game
Just close your eyes forget your name
forget the world, forget the people
and we'll erect a different steeple.
This little game is fun to do.
Just close your eyes, no way to lose
And I'm right here, I'm going too
Release control, we're breaking through
Way back deep into the brain
Way back past the realm of pain
Back where there's never any rain
And the rain falls gently on the town
And over the heads of all of us
And in the labyrinth of streams beneath
Quiet unearthly presence of
Nervous hill dwellers in the gentle hills around
Reptiles abounding
Fossils, caves, cool air heights
Each house repeats a mold
Windows rolled
A beast car locked in against morning
All now sleeping
Rugs silent, mirrors vacant
Dust blind under the beds of lawful couples
Wound in sheets
And daughters, smug with semen
Eyes in their nipples
Wait! There's been a slaughter here
Don't stop to speak or look around
Your gloves and fan are on the ground
We're getting out of town
We're going on the run
And you're the one I want to come!
Not to touch the earth, not to see the sun
Nothing left to do but run, run, run
Let's run, let's run
House upon the hill, moon is lying still
Shadows of the trees witnessing the wild breeze
Come on, baby, run with me
Let's run
Run with me, run with me, run with me
Let's run
The mansion is warm at the top of the hill
Rich are the rooms and the comforts there
Red are the arms of luxuriant chairs
And you won't know a thing till you get inside
Dead president's corpse in the driver's car
The engine runs on glue and tar
Come on along, not going very far
To the east to meet the Czar
Run with me, run with me, run with me
Let's run
Some outlaws live by the side of a lake
The minister's daughter's in love with the snake
Who lives in a well by the side of the road
Wake up, girl! We're almost home
Sun, sun, sun
Burn, burn, burn
Moon, moon, moon
I will get you soon…soon…soon!
I am the Lizard King
I can do anything
We came down the rivers and highways
We came down from forests and falls
We came down from Carson and Springfield
We came down from Phoenix enthralled
And I can tell you the names of the kingdom
I can tell you the things that you know
Listening for a fistful of silence
Climbing valleys into the shade
For seven years I dwelt in the loose palace of exile
Playing strange games with the girls of the island
Now I have come again to the land of the fair
And the strong and the wise
Brothers and sisters of the pale forest
Children of night
Who among you will run with the hunt?
Now night arrives with her purple legion
Retire now to your tents and to your dreams
Tomorrow we enter the town of my birth
I want to be ready
José Vicente Anaya (Villa Coronado, Chihuahua, México, 1947-2020). Poeta, ensayista, traductor y periodista cultural. Fundador del movimiento infrarrealista. Ha publicado más de 30 libros, entre ellos: Avándaro (1971), Los valles solitarios nemorosos (1976), Morgue (1981), Punto negro (1981), Largueza del cuento corto chino (7 ediciones), Híkuri (4 ediciones), Poetas en la noche del mundo (1977), Breve destello intenso. El haiku clásico del Japón (1992), Los poetas que cayeron del cielo. La generación beat comentada y en su propia voz (3 ediciones), Peregrino (2002 y 2007), Diótima. Diosa viva del amor (2020), Mater Amatisima/Pater Noster (2020) y Material de Lectura (poesía Moderna, UNAM, 2020), entre otros. Ha traducido libros (publicados) de Henry Miller, Allen Ginsberg, Marge Piercy, Gregory Corso, Carl Sandburg y Jim Morrison. Ha traducido a más de 30 poetas de los Estados Unidos. Ha recibido varios premios por su obra poética. Es miembro del Sistema Nacional de Creadores CONACULTA-FONCA. Formó parte de la Sociedad de Escritores de México y Japón (SEMEJA). En 1977, funda alforja. REVISTA DE POESÍA. Desde 1995 ha impartido seminarios-talleres de poesía en diferentes ciudades de México. Ha asistido a encuentros internacionales de poesía y dado conferencias en varios países como Italia, Estados Unidos, Colombia y Costa Rica. Colaboró en la revista Proceso.