Convenant I
the organ harvest is most/ delectable beneath fluorescent light/ rebelling
against the heaving stars/ the shock of being/ locked inside a/warehouse
without exits/ the delirium of chewing dark/ meat/ workers dance around the
rock circle/ they dig points of quartz and roses into their hands/ thorny/
minerals/ stalagmites rimming their wounds/ the workers collect their blood in
golden vials/for the toast/ sip/ the blood with such gusto/ you would mistake
them for thieves/ you would mistake them for/ yourself / you too enjoy that
profound disorder/ people wonder through plains/ and wheat/ jeering/ they
wear a cosmic execration on their heads/ a pack of coyotes is only frightening
if you’re not carrying/ a gun when/ you get bored/ of your liver or/ when
your liver gets bored of you/ you can upgrade/ when your lungs mold/ and
fungi begin to spore/ you can get a fresh replacement/just spin the order of
things in your favor/ and cast dice onto the legs/ of brujas
Daphne
lo que es madera
lo que permanece intacto
my skin will be so long and thin one day
it will rip in the wind and I will think of all
my greatest hits
my father’s belt against my ass
la fajiada que te voy a dar
the leather-lash and cattails
the eight-fisted whip
the blistering tumescence
of the warped tree I did
become
puta y su hija
sin vergüenza
recall my flesh splintering in your hands
when you took the ax to my flank
and halved me
you must want to be hacked to bits
you said
does it rain because God must be compelled to weep for us
does thunder roll into the hills to burn us clean
throw me against a window and I will burst
before I even split against the glass
my flesh pulpy as the meat of an overripe
stone-fruit
toss me and I will float
tip-toeing to the nearest ravine
where a water daemon will offer to revive me
in exchange for sex
I will consent
lapping purple water with my tongue
my hooves gripping the edge with the phantom
grace of roots
