THE RED HOT COILS
the fan sitting on
a window sill
was gently blowing
the curtains on to
a radiator heater
the phone rang and rang
water boiling in a kettle
steam whistling out as if
it were a toy locomotive
circling the red hot
coils on a portable
electric range
plugged in to a
bloodstained wall
water overflowing in
the old clawfoot bathtub
Randy Travis blaring on
a portable FM radio
from an empty living room
~
DRYING OUT
Drying out
An army cot
Above the Taos
Fire station
Is not an ideal spot
But the cool breeze
Coming through
The window
Sure feels
Nice
~
Purchase Jon Huerta’s debut collection of poetry and moonshine recipes HERE.
Cacti Fur 
Good Job Nefew
Really love the imagery that you provide – your poems have a certain smell that is only familiar if you grew up in Grandma Toosies kitchen and cut weeds growing from the trap door of the cesspool in the back yard
Your poetry tastes of Chicano and De Colores and a sixer of Schlitz recently purchased at the Tower Bar on the Old Dexter Hiway
I Love you Jon
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