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Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

The September Featured Poet is Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Please feel free to email Luis at: cuatemochi@aol.com

luis

THE CORPSE

The corpse, visibly upset,
was separated from its soul.
Its mouth tried to speak.
It could not say two words.
It shouted, my love.
It could not say more.
Even the bullet was gone.

Its wound closed where
the soul escaped. The corpse
listened to mourners
that paid their last respects.
It lived a sad life.
It was mentally tired.
It wept without tears.

THE MARCH

It blankets you,
triumphant,
as the sea waits
for your ashes.

Death marches on,
heroic,
with its bizarre
smile and dark cloak.

It marks time with
monotonous
humming. It has
given up words.

It offers no
oasis.
The jubilance
of life has gone.

IN TOMB DREAMS

Sleep like kings
in tomb dreams
with eyes shut.

Dark dead lips,
dry, bitter,
close to death’s

kisses this
windy night.
Death stopped by,
a strange smile,

as his kiss
takes your soul.
His lips bleed
this cold night.

NOCTURNAL GUESTS

The guests are coming.
They are partway here.
They are heading inside.
They die for my company.

They are like witches.
They come by uninvited.
They can switch forms.
They always come at night.


Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal has lived in California for the past 45 years. He works in the mental health field in Los Angeles, California. His poetry has appeared in Yellow Mama Magazine, Unlikely Stories, Mad Swirl, 63Channels, Foliate Oak, and Oddball Magazine.