Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Blend No. 27s

I smoked cigarettes for you
stuttering and stumbling
aware of cilia crushing fires
that chained and arrested me like
a dominatrix cop

creo en dios pero hice en malas cosas
I believe in gods but do bad things

disguised coughs as chuckles
you mistook clumsy (a)diction
for femme female,
plumes curling
down opened white collared shirts

you held my hand
showing me off, my red herring lips
pursed- you were so so proud

7 minutes gone
the PSAs scolded us
7 minutes you
puffed, sighing
7 minutes saved
aside for me.

What I loved about smoking
was the sudden gasp
escaping your chest

-dropping beer bottles on sidewalk
-cold hands, canvas, bare back
-skirt slips and arm twist

I loved

that your lips turned grey
and your voice wary, caresses
in the folds of your face.

Mama warned me to stop smoking
why I wheezed
“you look like a bitch”

you found
the chingada puta in me beautiful,
dressed my thorn crown
lit black candles and silk scarves
immolation was never so sweet.

Clouds and clouds
you lost sight
of furrowed brow and sweat
smudged kohl
and overlooked
yellowing cotton
eyes glossing, no oxygen

in our dizziness
we breathed intifada kisses
in a mutual martyrdom
communion nonetheless

you left to go inside for a jacket
“its chilly” you waved
the pack still gripped into my arm

nene, lo siento
I smoked them all.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012


In the midst of cotton nights
he moaned across the ocean
screeching for the hem
of mama Sosa’s sleeve

reminiscing a translucent gesture
opaque in the confines of his skull

I held on for dear life, quierdo
like sun-dried mud caked under your empty kophers
to imagine, to imagine
te quería mas de piel mia


tears that fed trees like milk, calcium
grows twigs resilient to piercing greys
your eyes never left Sugatra
as you peered into me
and into effervescent currents

claiming that blind, dumb salamanders
were your only reality

poor poor niño
and I mean it like you, your people do:
noting the slight boy najwa in his eyes
water in his waist, stickiness
across fingernails
hesitant of the rushes you cause
as your toes spread in terra cotta
clotted earth.

mi amor, nada siempre jamas.

I still cross the same lines
you planted
into my palm
amongst kisses and slight pinches that
held the woman inside of me
hostage, captive in a cage

and habibi

how I yearned
to pull her out by her hair
shaking and shrieking
in fright,
embarrassment , silent

to sharpen knives in her teeth
and rest her assassin hand
between shoulder blades you call home, where
blood damns into tributaries
beneath peach-blue stretched sky.

Trust me puto

you might as well have the privilege of knowing:
I rub the phantom grease
off my chin and moan.
Clean apron, hunger knife
you beautiful , beautiful brute

ai nene

to believe the buds in your britches
once bucked and bolted
against the breaks in my hips.

to know the sight of
purple breasts
caused you to cower

but that’s ok because
even the most famous artists
in front of rigid earth, unfinished business.

Romance prevails reality intrudes
wasn’t it after all sadhana
that saved my astringent soul?

pulling stems from Abrahamic wool

I slouch
and sigh

I have nothing more in my pockets
but seeds for the small birds
tucked in your chest

te quiero
te quería
te quiero nunca jamas

Dedication: To a boy-man (something like that) who halfway forgot his mission as his hands ran up my pleated skirt. Be forewarned nena.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

The Origins of Earth

Billions of years ago, in the folds of pangea
Mama said lovers are like limestone
-one move and they will crash.

So I fear your palms
into mine like boats
my own fingers grow warm, river
waves seethe in the tips
your hand slides under worn
worn thighs

little did I know
my breath against pueblo kneck
caused sinewy curve

I'll take you to zion

but realize brutish beauty
was to my side all along:
sedimentary chest molds as
rain drop tips the end
you dissolve slowly

into me
river sway, pebbles afloat to aquatic
floor, tucking
waxing-waning. Winds coo
against your walls
I carve you
until creek and chisel

but earth shifts beneath feet
my brackish waters fall
into tierras womb
you, across the ocean
stone crevices yearning damp skin

you crumble into yourself.