II. an anthropologist he wrote a book, he called it “myths of heaven”

1. 

                                                                      2. Scarce rain outdoors The Bay and its windows and skylights and tent flaps. 

3.  so fatigued

                                                                                                                                                                                 beat up even, these days, these times i sit on

corner stones

and depend the time in quarter tones to 10

4. so i&#8217ll be short. 

 

1st web-site, 

Death of a snake

Snake on the head

 

                              Does our do the job mirror that we are so fatigued

and that loooooong rest is necessary    that there is an altar    to placate mars purple peppers that by no means received cooked on a chipped dish on an ikea phase stool?

on a candle the inscribed symbol.                          ‘masculinity’/’male,’ you know     the one arrow/circle      x            stunning there      on the wax

 

i not long ago battled them

above hearth

ideal immediately after a snake

un culebrón

una boa puertorriqueña 

a Chilabothrus inornatus

drop its pores and skin above me and landed on my 

head

 

Genuine story! question me someday if we see just about every other. 

 

i was hunting for shelter in a position

i’ve been absent from

to be compromised 

in light-weight of all the things

 

                 UN SER

Difundido

Difuminado

Sumergido

Invitado

Inundado 

Invertido

                   EN LUZ

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                            A Remaining     

Diffused

Blurred

Submerged

Invited

Flooded

Inverted

                                                                                                                                                                                                              IN LIGHT 

Yet again, i say it it has ended

 

                                                                                                                                                              Now!

 

Wrecked, adrift among the rotten, hole-filled posts 

so tall, slipping above

when the wind blows way too hard

Sparks fly from flapping 

slapping wires

and we begin                    

                                                                                                                                                                     a hearth.

 

A girl in Florida

teaches me 

from afar

how to shake aged Recollections out of my lower backbone

suggests she employed to say 

“Some of us” now states “All of us”

 

                                                                                                                                         when she speaks about trauma. 

 

El bebé huele a manzanilla 

por dormir al lado de su papá 

cuyo aliento cargaba flores

por haber tomado té

 

A las 3 de la mañana esa breve transmisión

es lo más hermoso 

de todo el universo

en todo su tiempo

The little one smells like chamomile

from sleeping up coming to their father

whose breath carries bouquets

for owning drunken tea

 

At 3 a.m. this brief transmission

Is the most gorgeous matter

 in all the universe

in all its time

 

Y así se fue, el fin, hasta que venga otra vez por ahí, así, prendida en llamas, tranquila.

And like that, it passes, the stop, until she comes again, alight in flames, chilling.

 

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