post-coital tristesse

what amount of novelty is required to crack a smile from time to time?

should novelty be available over-the-counter in extended-release tablets?

why do women get away with big ears & men do not?

does hair volume have anything to do with this?

now that my old friend is close to conformity or indifference,

close to not minding not making it to point B or point C,
he asks himself questions to kill time,

he bothers his friends

since he’s unable to help himself after all the years on the road, 

all the weekends at our local public library

is experience favorite snack our enthusiasm?

shouldn’t it first munch for years on midnight delight or mochi ice cream? 

shouldn’t it drink someone else’s kool-aid & get fat or go bald 

before going for our jugular?

his counterproductive, not counterculture, question marks themselves being side effects, 

along with his private bouts with anhedonia, with acceptance, 

withdrawal symptoms 

now that i think about it, now that i too have cut back on alcohol & caffeine

should we perform CPR on the future? would it be more cost-effective to let it die?

is sleeping a good hobby to pick up, a good second career to consider?

how about counting sheep?

what are we supposed to do in a world of misplaced exclamation points?

in a world when answers start to go extinct?

should we take a cue from jazz musicians & improvise?

  

c. a. campos, 2012

olimpiadas

la meta es dejar de la noche a la mañana de esculpirla,

no tener en cada verso que escupir a la cara

a la alegría, en cada trago

es superar nuestra biología y la de los otros,

nuestro entorno, nuestra tristeza 

sin que se nos vaya a la porra el prurito, la creencia 

no son las peripecias del viaje, ni llegar a ítaca, 

sino parar un día de depender de ella,

no tener que necesitar más de su beso, de su saliva

la meta es recuperar la magia de la nada,

mandar a que el vacío se suene la nariz,

recoja sus trapitos

c. a. campos, 2012  

quantum (or implosion)

no matter what space-time theory you annually subscribe to,
some of us are on a collision course
with an object of greater size, of greater importance.

all our conscious efforts to change course are in vain.
like the gods men pray to, plead mercy to,
our subconscious is biologically or selectively deaf, mute.

an unknown creative-destructive force brings together things
so that they can get to know each other, wear off their novelties
& warranties, so that they can discredit themselves.

on some days, we walk towards this object with acceptance or resolution;
on others, as if to counter or make up for our apathy or defiance,
the streaking object rushes itself towards our mobile addresses.

but have no fear, everyone in the science-fiction community
agrees that the impact of our eventuality shall be minimal,
microscopic (if we're being honest).

aside from having to look out for some bubbles bursting,
some balloons popping, & a sidereal object bellowing & burping,
you should be scot-free to worry about your palpitations.


c. a. campos, 2012.