Sometimes I wish that certain people were dead

And others would live forever,

That I could torture my childhood bullies

And redo lost fights with past lovers.

poems (2019)

Day One: March 13, 2020

Today is Friday, March 13, 2020, and my, what a day for words.

In times of distress, I have often found solace in words. Words got me through my childhood (إِذ قالَ يوسُفُ لِأَبيهِ يا أَبَتِ), through early adolescence (wake up in the morning and I ask myself / Is life worth living should I blast myself?), through later adolescence (…vanity of vanities; all is vanity), through my early twenties (To be, or not to be, that is the question), through my late twenties (I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness), and through the countless crises of my days. Writing and reading them, seeing and hearing them, words express the thoughts and feelings that I taste and smell, but cannot touch.


For in Aphenzo’s realm, there lived a man

Both loved and praised. Hesano was his name,

A nobleman from the tribe of Hasimus,

A man of wealth, integrity, respect,

And justice. When he saw that plague of fraud,

Camillus, he stood bold and dared to speak.

His God was Truth. Hesano feared no man,

But spoke out in defiance of the king.


Slightly to our right was a small and dark hole within the walls of this forest, like an accidental cavern, a careless cavity in the cracks of a valley’s furrows, and next to it stood a crude wooden sign, crooked and limp, on which some letters were slapdashedly carved. It read: “CERRO CHATO. LAGUNA LAKE CHATO”.

chapter one: Costa Rica

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