When the sun is less than gentle,
leaves barely stir.
I daydream of a nice cold
beer and rum and coke.
The sun shakes me from
daydreaming. It wages war
on my head; beats on me like
a drum. I laugh to keep from
weeping. The sun is an evil
monster. I feel it plunge its
talons into my eyes.
I fight it off. I go into a deep sleep
where my slumbers lead me
to an ice storm and I am in
the arms of an ice monster
who comforts me with a slow
dance and a pint of beer,
and for a few moments
I feel like I am winning this war.
Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health
field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Beatnik Cowboy,
Dope Fiend Daily, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.
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