wages for housework and other necessary labor
imagine the sweetness
of reciprocity, begs
my teeth fall out.
I am a mouth full
of crowns and empty
houses; my gums, bloody
shores where ancestral trauma still washes up
your wings melt.
you triangulate the distance to
my thighs e x p a n s i v e
cemeteries nestling the field of bright
that will break your fall.
Sword Swallower (Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic)
I spent a year as a sword swallower
Moaned your name through the scar tissue
Closed my eyes and imagined the crows
Feet that form around your eyes when you
Smile (Achilles heel turned broken ankle).
I wanted you to tell me more about G*****
(You were impressed that I could find it on a map);
About your dad.
I wanted to cure your asthma
Bring you tea in the middle of the night–
You wanted to tell me about someone else.
you cannot live without a fire
you crossed the border twice.
over the moon and under it,
sad embers sighed and
people warned of stormy weather.
but god is in the rain.
gray and soft like the melancholy
you tuck behind your tender ear
of maize, Xilonen;
the huitlacoche of Sunday markets.
the milky cup of tea which
you let get cold again.
I Finger The Loneliness
yearning happens at night;
when the need for warmth of touch melts the frost of survival.
when tender sinews surrender, I
throw arms around ghosts—the ones who linger
on the tongue like bitter coffee; bite bottom lip like mezcal.
(scorched earth of my mouth)
Good Bait: The Political Economy of Desire
black on black on Black on
an interruption – no,
a reminder to the Columbus-ing ass fuckboys
(and girls) that