"Deventolution" and "Still Beautiful"


The days become weeks
in minutes and the months
in seconds and back to days
in nanoseconds. This is how
my days evolve. It is called
deventolution. I play a little
guitar, high as a kite, eat my
Cheerios with a spork, and
binge watch Dexter and
Family Feud. I dissect flies
that get inside my room
who sacrifice themselves
at my whim. Whatever
threats I have made is just
trash talking. I do not mean
anything by it. I only go to
jail to make friends. I am
not psych material. There
is nothing that is crazy about
what I do. Ask the doctor
to change my meds. I will
not take them anyway. Ask
the doctor when do I get out?



Still Beautiful

Blue was swallowed by night.
Red flower became black flower.
Day was overcome
and still all was beautiful.
Trees were shapeless.
Outside where the stars did not shine
because of clouds that veiled
everything, the moon as well,
you could smell the cigarettes
smoked in darkness,
and all was still beautiful.



Born in Mexico, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal resides in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared in Blue Collar Review, Kendra Steiner Editions, Nerve Cowboy, and Yellow Mama Webzine. Luis recommends St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.


Edited for Unlikely by Jonathan Penton, Editor-in-Chief
Last revised on Monday, March 7, 2022 - 16:13