Ciglo II

Entonces, quien llama la sal de mi alma

que va illuminada de sol volando sin alas

entre estrellas y escamas?

que va--no vale llorarla.

Pero dime, qual fue el rostro tronado con montanas

del dessierto alegre

debajo de mis palmas?

que cuesta encaramarla--mi cuerpo a tu cara?

De donde vino ese viento

embarassado con mis lagrimas?

que terremoto de risa y tristeza amarga--porque me haces falta?

Tu mar es el cielo que llueve mi rio de agua.

mmmmmmm

Galactic Center of Milky Way Rises over Texas Star Party from William Castleman on Vimeo.

Lady Love

Dear Milky Hips,
hija, your lips
necessitate mine.
let me be the first
to answer
their primal cry
for aguardiente rivulets
and wash from them el red wine
that prostitutes forget.

let my spout drown you instead.

Se que you long for your head to rest
but my breast es
softer
than the ground
this
grassy skin more warm
than
cigarettes
a willing shroud
to wrap the gaps,
en las muchas
muchachas
y
ropa vieja
tu has found.

let my fingertips sow through tu summer gown.

I want to
be tu amoeba y
flagellate the syrup space,
hasta que
our membranes
meiosis como
masa de cake,
until our
chromatids
twist y
recombinate
como un
messy plate.

I will be tu amiga hasta que me cortes el tape.

Corazón De Chivo

Lo ultimo perdido fue tu sombra en el camino,
que buscando una cancion
trago las lagrimas del rio.
Abrazando el aire como un muerto fiel amigo,
el sudor baila tu frente
calor besa vientres vacio.

Ay, dejame'l sonido
solo por la risa
del universo vivo.

Canciones de campo no cantan--
lloran y gritan como el chivo,
barba goteada de sangre sobre el cuchio,
lamentando vida en chorrillos
Golpeando madera de guitarra en tu oido,
susurran las voces del viento,
Corazón de chivo comerás
cuando el tuyo muere viviendo.

Ay, dejame'l sonido
solo por la risa
del universo vivo.



Goat Heart

On the narrow road, it goes, you leave your shadow
last
the search for song
will drown among
antique river glass.
Embrace the loyal air like graves-
forgotten ghosts of friends
watch the dancing sweat parade
down furrowed lanes of forehead.

Here, souls we find are blind in sun
burst in heat-kissing hollow intestine.

Leave me
with the sound i live
for only universal laughter.

This is crying country, echoes of
in screaming goat
in newborn roar,
Through bloody slit we whoop and weave
our patterns knit sack tapestry.

Leave me
with the sound i live
for only universal laughter.

Beat the wood guitar to ear,
where windy voices whisper
dreams of the goat's heart
you'll eat,
warm
beating
softly.

Fugitiv(a)

We landed 90 miles close to whore.

They call it Nod, land of the univision, whereby

irises telescope visual vibrations

pulsating through pastures

excavating memories of forsaken planes.

This will be a field trip to your mother's grave:

Bring bandannas for the anxious sweat

Bring a pen so you don't forget,

chameleon skins of inbred love

kinky vines reformed with braid

eyes of disinherit cause Medusa's Gaze.

A Peach in the Sun.

The call it habao, the wa(y)our body toasts

en el nombre del husband, hija y holy hoast

you must sun-beam that photon-receiving

wet back that

can't compete with-

won't compute the-

buzzing waves of las bees-

zumbido de olas de las abejas?

Last night, I had a dream that my skin became translucent with tv screens

teleporting

telephonic

cationic cathodes

o' flaking fallout

on cockroach

homes below

bilingual breakdowns beeping

//incomplete// incomplete//

The monster in the sky is just the moon.

¡Cancion Lunar? Claro! // Moon Soong? Why yes!

My minotauro is missing // ¡Donde esta mi minotauro?

¡Mi Tauro no esta aqui! // My Toro is not here!

¡Loco como un coco? // Crazy like the coconut?

Mi//My//Me//Mio//Madre//Mia//

Luna lunar like la loon.

Qual es la conclusion?

Can't a cancion sing?

Como canta mi pajarito,

tea tee ti re: tú two too.

Cuckoo clock concludes:

el toro, tauro, bull has been set loco, largo, loose.

Monday Prayer

i.

Dearest Disney, Patron Saint of Egos, thy mercy I do beseech
para a wayward flock eight years absent en tus cushioned church seats.
Pray por mi sins first conceived como droplets en panties
de broken hymens silently tearing, la sorcery de gymnastics en color aparente
stains ofinocencia on faded Lion King bloomers, size 12, age 8:
Moses brought thy rojo sea upon mi gates.

O Glory be tu mercy por my brothers y sisters still ignorant de tu color.


ii.

Dearest Desiree, Martyred Lamb de Long Eyelashes, Yo pray por tu soul
salivating con Chinese plastico, positivamente Pakistani polyester,
absolutamente African acrylic y arsenic playhouses. La Ciudad de
Hialeah has taught tu ironías de ácido regimes, memorias de
Havana tus ojos have yet to see; 'tis better to spend lo que you don't have,
then to live como street urchins, destitute y lowly.
I pray:
por tu salvacion
por tu wanton happy meals
por tu inheritance of bakery bread lines
por tu shredded horse meat Mondays
por tu second-hand emphysema.

Praise be in thine Hialeah pastries and Quinceañeras, vigils de tu virginity.


iii.

Dear Dios, Almighty Creator of Coconuts and Celia Cruz, I beg por tu wisdom y grace
con no knees left to grovel por tu mercy, por favor accept este offer de mi seasoned senses instead,
un moist sacrificial bread por tu altar si tu will make me a martyr, un Patron Saint de Pretty Pretty Princesses con un mascot de Pink Ponies, papitas y pasteles offerings--ask El Papa to name mi--
La Pious Patchouli: Protectora de Pre-pubescent Pupusas.

Madre Mia-mi inferno smells como roasted nuts, te bless tu one-armed guajiro street vendor.

When Your Loops Back-Feed

In a dark room our fingers
twine like tentacles, alien soft
rubber tendrils
curl, pluck from hot air
notes the ear forgot, tucked in tight
as cushion seats
when they left
the Womb for the World,
long ago it seems.

Under-ceiling skies sink our heads beneath
the tapeworm swallowing
pressed pillows,
thigh-roots gnarled from friction
crackling deep-fire down our trunks
whispering, nuestro nombre--Fuego,
branch-limbs sway in the breath-breeze,
breast-fruit perks for the plucking.

Our sighs moan, sobre sealed labios
sprouting seeds of a song:
Y tú, deep
O tú, sea
Abreast
Abird
Abreeze,
a-bre-me-sin-fin
o-pen-me-in-fin-ite-ly.

Uno entra una di-men-sion
En la palabra parabolá,
Por que para volar, debes
Primero soñar
Sin alas
Si nadas,
las curvas
de
la Matemática
Son alta.

Lament-e de mar es
La lengua abstract-a.