At My Cluttered Desk

Reclined in my chair
feet in the air
Red Stripe in my hand
acoustic guitar by my side
a roof over my head
gas, electric, water,
and most importantly internet. . .
all up an running, surprisingly
looking around my cluttered desk
of full ash trays
empty cigarette packs
and bottle caps
crumpled papers
full of hopes and retrospections
where most of my "work" is done
a Pablo Neruda book in my lap
bought from the library store down the street
the bilingual edition
I notice how eloquently
the native language rolls along
compared to the translation

"Ya no lo quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido."

and thats pretty fucking deep

with a mean looking pit bull on the armrest
but not quite as mean as he looks
a pretty bird nested on my couch
pumping 30 gigs of music
off a sweet ass computer
to a bad ass pair of headphones

that drowns out her voice. . . .

life is sweet.

sometimes.