summer stock: Luis Humberto Valadez

if a lie is a promise to dwell in the land

amassed in the treads of another's footprints

I promise I am not lying as much as I can

when I promise to meet you at a mark

our hosts call a temple made from red tile

a temple we have traversed a few times

on our ways to elsewhere without knowing it

as much as I can I can promise I am not lying

when I promise to hit the mark in my red-lined

brown shoes at the time we have agreed is appropriate

I am not lying as much as I can promise I am not lying

but I am certain we will not arrive at the same place

I cannot lie when I do not know the honest matter

of a fact

can you believe the matter

of a fact is a cloud?

a cloud floating towards another?

another cloud forming likenesses?

likenesses received by retinas?

retinas tucked into eyes of many?

of many shapes cradled?

cradled in skulls of many sizes?

I can

not know

the matter

of a lie

I wonder

who can even see

see a cloud

cloud for the smog

emitted by people

people who all must

must tilt

tilt their chins

chins upward and raise

raise their eyebrows

eyebrows towards

towards their hairlines

to have a look

when

I can

I think

of people

whose retinas

do not

receive clouds

I promise as much as I can lie that I am not a beluga

intent on beaching myself on the homestead of my hosts

i am

not focused
on draining
the attention
of my hosts

i am

not draining
the life force
of my hosts

i am

not failing
to notice
my increasing
shallowness
of breath

as much as I can promise i ask

can we agree to thrive in the soil
collected in the treads of each other's work shoes?