10.02.11 TUS, AZ

some notes on some cities.

all those cities i’ve never slept in
————————————–they are all built upon layers and archives
of bulletproof speculations and fine granite silver sand suicides;
perpetually choking on free-flowing rhymes of barbwire picket fences
and fecal matter finances…——————————————————-
finding peace and quiet was never so suspect.
silence was never so precious…
————————————-irreplaceable,
respectfully differing time, position and place
giving up with hands in pockets, eyeballs rolling in, lips shut tight.

——–noise owns every moment.
———————noise owns ever distance.

occupies it all with amplified frequencies of nothing and no-meaning copulating until oceans of clenched fists take over the empty… the lack of syllables to enunciate… the trails of dead skin to be shed.

———————-keep your marches.
keep your slogans.—————————-
keep your occupations and your freedom in the rest of the world radio stations;
i’ll keep my blade of grass and my passport in my front pocket
and my standard issued gasoline flask
beacuase ——————————— every single city i’ve set on fire
was already ripe with the stench of every color
——————————————————-every flag has ever bled for
the black and the yellow
the brown and the red
—————————–the white.———————————————–

the tipper tapper toe dance of a hundred thousand minuscule aches travelling up every espina dorsal, like fever rising, like lucifer appealing, like mothers seducing, like lolitas ———————————————————————————————–conceiving,
like a twenty——year———old would———-be beauty queen
squeezing herself through a fence pass a gate
in search of rock-steady ground levels
and firm hand-shake knuckles that promise
—————————————————-her flat stomach a fill

malnutrition and anorexia were never quite so empowering
as when they allow you to slip———————–into the smallest of cracks
microscopic syringes
————————–unaccounted spreadsheets
———————————————————-neglected orgasms
——————————————————————————–relinquished erections
all friction lacking tends to leave
twice as much space for hunger
…………………………………………….than satisfaction can ever be chewed up and digested…

no children to be fed here.
no births to forget here.
no sexual positions to……………………………………be taken lightly here.

and so the only city i’ve ever made love in
resembles the hand of a little girl
with four fingers missing
one by one mutilated and consumed as proof of life with only an opposable thumb left ……………….——————————–…………………………………………………………………..intact

the bare minimum for humanity to survive.
the bare minimum for humanity to be recognized as such.
the bare minimum for humanity to be named…
…………………………………………………………………..human kind.

but despite all her digits identified
that little girls still remains unknown
with chicken scratches across her forehead
spelling out the anonymity of a single huella digital

so i will name her -myself-
i will name her -almohada-
i will name her -arbol-
i will name her -spark-
i will name her -flame-
i will name her -propaganda-
i will name her -building block- -first city block-
i will name her -ciudad-

like the first city i ever slept on.
like the last city i will never burn down.
like the only city
………………………………………………………..i will ever enter my love in.

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