He says he’s never really stoppedspeaking to God. Says it’s in his DNA, askingfor things.
When my body blew openthe shadow-glass cloudgalloped through me, glittered
I count gulls until they spasminto numbers, until I graspa number never uttered.
At night in the field, I felt the curvature of a palpabletime around me, felt the darkfoam of the waveform rise and collapse
It is easier for people to think I wanteda dick swinging between my legs.
It makes more sense that way instead of thefacial hair that came at the same time
The summer after, a stormsplit the sky over Hergla and I wanted to be in it.
Every day there’s the bay, every day, every night, once, it was Estero de Jaltepec:
Christmas, flew home packaged like a gift. Beneath my jeans a childlike padding. Came to adore the wee god, his dolorous mother.
it’s procedure to inspect the ass of an immigrant kid
undress put this gown on the doctor will be here soon
Hidden in a dim stall as the muezzin calledall worshipers to prayer, I touched privatelythe indelible stain.
