(reflections on San Diego)

Mexican beer and amber lights,
sushi tanning skirt flies shoving
money in their tights

So-Cal Mexi-Cali where the thousand
cities lye,
and where the million pretty people,
watch the other million die-
and where the money from the gas
goes to the people in the cars,
who own the houses on the cliffs
that from the pueblos look like stars.

where the heart attack lies well
beneath the tender cleavage sight,
and where the heart shaped box
is savage in the alleys of the night.

Belly Dancer

Her eyes invade my conscience
mind
her quick glances speak fluently
to my trifled spirit
as she rhythmically flutters about-
musefully,
nonchalant.

Her enchanting smile coincides with
her gypsy gaze;
a burning reflection

Our eyes meet with a solemn intensity
and she observes her own heavenly form-
self-consciencely-
aware.

True beauty might be on the inside,
but this dancing,
was an extension of an abundant
inner beauty-
acutely purveyed
from the inside-
out.