I am grunting along the 60, returning

from Calvary Mortuary in East LA

where I walked into the wrong

services. My good friend’s mom

suddenly gone and me wandering halls

looking for the moon: Luna, …

because no one else will. His eyes
are white and cracked like the moon,
    little crescents. And when I set
him down, he runs, not knowing
where he’s going. …

Last night I read Lorca in the bathtub
Three candles and an incense lit
My cigarette blending with steam and bubbles
Lavender and Epsom sinking to the bottom
The eucalyptus …