from
FARALLONES
I. Estrella
When I died
the Colombian
government
named a star
after all five
of my bullet wounds
They called it
POINT BLANK
and threw it at
me
The burn patterns
this star
is covered in
white daffodils
this star
has fractured
my femur
this star
has amplified
my love of God
as he lives in
the madness of his work
I love you I said
I love you
&
I love
the whistle
of the wind
through the holes
in my head
the column of
my spine
was snapped
but I still love
you
and I still feel
like I could walk
if only
you would fuck
off
and let me be
a while
I said all this
to the Colombian
government
while the burn
patterns
tore through my
brain
As I fell to the
ground
I could tell
you didn't want
me
to talk like that
or have a face
so vanished of
color
the sun could
creep in
II.
That day of being
towards the end
that day the knife
falls in love
and moans deep
into the wound
it makes
the knife gazes
at the wound's
terminus
cuddles up to
it
inside its new
sheath
day of midnight
sun
and day of
night without
darkness
a knife's love
will only end
with a body on
the floor
I don't remember
where I was
when they came
to the door
with immense knives
and guns
Don't cover the
sun I said
there it is
suspended in the
air
do not cover it
and they did not
cover the sun
and because they
did not
the sun still
traverses
the length of
those plains
I said don't cover
my head
but they covered
my head
so I was restless
with the sun in
my eyes
the whole way
there
III.
My prayers were
fertile
to life
but now I pray
a prayer
from deep inside
the bag
around my head
I pray
to fuck
they take it off
big gun fuckers
in ritual procession
with their little
phalluses
their steel phalluses
adolescents
in camoflauge
jesus
they leave
such tiny footprints
I pray to the
plastic
jesus
bobblehead
my
body
might dissolve
before
it reaches
climax
on the rock crags
of Farallones
I pray
that my face
might know death
through its wounds
that my face
might redeem the
landscape
that surrounds
my body
I pray that my
son
might redeem me
from the blood
on the landscape
adolescents
unconscious
pray
that my son
finds a blade
when he's older
holds it so tight
his enemies have
to
cut off his hand
|