Latin Transmissions

wpid-img_44212.jpg.jpeg

 

I wake in Madrid

Humming denial

Of the bullet

In my throat

 

That litters

This vista

Like live ordnance

In a graveyard

 

Would you read

My essays if

Written in blue

Or green?

 

Transcribed by the

Whore of wasps

I searched for a flaw

In her acronym

 

Only to arrive

Like a letter

Slack-jawed,

Unwell-heeled

 

In tennis shoes

Which we called

Sneakers back where

I grew up

 

So instead

I scoured

Patent offices and airport detention centers

Seeking the new you

 

Built from the ground

Up and teaching the poor

How to read Lorca

Email by email.

 

 

 

 

 

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