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

                                                                      2. Rare rain outside The Bay and its windows and skylights and tent flaps. 

3.  so tired

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

corner stones

and count the time in quarter tones to ten

4. so i’ll be short. 

 

First site, 

Death of a snake

Snake on the head

 

                              Does our work reflect that we are so tired

and that loooooong rest is needed    that there is an altar    to placate mars red peppers that never got cooked on a chipped dish on an ikea step stool?

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

 

i recently battled them

over fire

right after a snake

un culebrón

una boa puertorriqueña 

a Chilabothrus inornatus

shed its skin above me and landed on my 

head

 

True story! ask me sometime if we see each other. 

 

i was looking for shelter in a place

i’ve been away from

to be compromised 

in light of everything

 

                 UN SER

Difundido

Difuminado

Sumergido

Invitado

Inundado 

Invertido

                   EN LUZ

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                            A BEING     

Diffused

Blurred

Submerged

Invited

Flooded

Inverted

                                                                                                                                                                                                              IN LIGHT 

Again, i say it it has ended

 

                                                                                                                                                              Already!

 

Wrecked, adrift among rotten, hole-filled posts 

so tall, falling over

when the wind blows too hard

Sparks fly from flapping 

slapping wires

and we start                    

                                                                                                                                                                     a fire.

 

A woman in Florida

teaches me 

from afar

how to shake old Memories out of my low spine

says she used to say 

“Some of us” now says “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 baby smells like chamomile

from sleeping next to their father

whose breath carries flowers

for having drunken tea

 

At 3 a.m. this brief transmission

Is the most beautiful thing

 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 end, until she comes back, alight in flames, chilling.

 

The post II. an anthropologist he wrote a book, he called it “myths of heaven” appeared first on Open Space.

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