Poems by Steve Lewis (a.k.a. Latin Gorilla

MAYBE

Maybe if I took a thirteen-letter word and placed it in a poem, you would understand the understanding of my dreams, nightmares! The hollering and crying of lost souls who never read the manuscript to the rules of this game. “I know what I’m doing,” so she thought.

Thirteen reasons why!

13. Being raised in a somewhat of a something she call home. 12. A fatherless child, a mother who made the wrong choices. 11. Having her innocence taken, because Moms didn’t pay attention…and was rocked to sleep, “Hush little baby don’t you cry.” 10. Every other day a new uncle, party till she fell asleep. “Mom, he touches me.” Shut your mouth, he puts food on the table…Stop thinking of yourself. Think of your brothers and sisters. I don’t have a job! 9. Education, home school, on the other side of her door. The classroom just to keep the checks on the first and third week of the month. 8. Found a way to get away. I like going to school. I got friends. 7. Hay girl, what good!? Same shit. Oh no she didn’t…She trying to play you…What did she do? You’re going to let her get away with it?! “Peer pressure.” Take a stand and make your name—Ring Bells! 6. Little girl growing lady bumps. Damn girl, you can’t hide that. I think he likes you. Sure, you’re right. I know what he would like. Shut your mouth…LOL. 5. Wolf in sheep’s clothing. Hey you, what your name? Why? So I don’t have to give you one. Whatever, I’ll call you baby girl. 4. Confused. Girl, he’s nice, pay attention, keep your legs crossed. It’s game. Think of your mother’s life or better yet, think of that girl who hangs on the corner every night. 3. Hook, line, sinker…Let’s go to the movies, give me a chance? I’m not like those other girls. I know you’re not. Popcorn or peanuts? 2. Girl, I really think he likes me. Don’t be another trophy on his mantel. He’s not like that. Sure he ain’t. He’s good to me. I thought so too. Mom, I ain’t like you. Sure you ain’t. 1. Hay, girl. You’re coming? Will you be there? Waiting for you…See you later.

Thirteen

Let’s dance. Okay. Damn, it’s hot in here. Let’s walk. You want something to drink? Why not? You smoke? I don’t do drugs. It’s weed. That’s still a drug! Let’s go back inside. Why you acting like that? I thought you wore big-girl drawers. I do! So what’s the problem? Weed doesn’t kill, and you already drank. Ain’t alcohol a drug? It ain’t like that. Ain’t a drug a drug? “You’re right,” she thinks, but doesn’t listen to the morals speaking to her. Don’t do it. Here—just one drag. You want me to find your courage? You got jokes. Give me that, my baby girl.

Poems by Steve Lewis (a.k.a. Latin Gorilla)

I REMEMBER

Thinking, was it a day such as this one when my forefathers were taken from the motherland? Like cookies out of a cookie jar, place.

ARE YOU LONELY TONIGHT?

I sit on the edge of my bed Gazing into the illuminating light That the moon shines upon these Cold and bitter, lonely nights. Memories of you, deep within the moon’s soul… Your heavenly scent intoxicating every time I inhale The midnight’s mist. My eyes close, remembering the memory of the first time I gazed upon your nakedness During our first conversation, your gentle touch. When you said, Hope to see you again, and asked for my number… I cursed the son of Venus for cursing me with his arrows dipped in Love Potion #9. I cursed that naked winged fairy for putting you in the beat of my heart. So I ask my soul to ask the almighty, the all-seeing: Are you lonely tonight? P.S. Te extraño.