November
It could be the jaguarundi’s
Blood on my face
From With the River on our Face (University of Arizona Press, 2016). Copyright © 2016 by Emmy Pérez. Used with the permission of University of Arizona Press.
Poems
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[No strawberry moon]
No strawberry moon for me, tonight. No strawberry moon. This small house creaks when I walk and open it. I have to weigh it, to goddess or not tonight. Goddess or godless. God is in my sleeping children’s presence tonight. I use words like god when I haven’t seen the strawberry moon, less when I haven’t been so generous. It’s not about gender—ess or less—but heft of the weight. Inside me like a baby. When people procreate. Romance a dashing thing. The harvest upon us. Will we feast or collapse in exhaustion tonight which is every?
2016
The History of Silence
When did it begin?
Beauty
Intentionally buried.
Don’t comment on screaming
It didn’t happen—
Did it happen?
2016
[Magic needed]
Magic needed. A letter to Lorca. Outer space martians to help me translate. A letter I write and sign by Lorca to introduce my poems. Love poems to the beloved. Lorca or Gloria or Jack Spicer needed in the absence of a beloved. Someone who understands María Sabina’s wisdom. A chachalaca as a pet.A glass of water for the dead, to help in their journey crossing. The dead and the not-yet. Sometimes I think I only have water to offer. Dark ruby tunas needed, easy to cut from the tops of cactus paddles. Life offers its appendages.
2016