Tonight, let me be
dark palm and copal.
Let me burn sweet and sweat.
Let me be empujar y jalar,
the tug of blue ocean,
a bird pushing sky.
I’ve always been
push and pull anyway.
Sometimes home is a border, a rip
in the sky’s black fence,
the edge of a deep, stone well.
Desperation and joy live everywhere,
all history echoes times seven,
sooner or later every back bends,
sooner or later we’re all disappeared.
Up North when winter’s cold starves us,
we eat ourselves fat,
squander the soul’s currency.
But tonight let me dance myself witch thin
under a thick rice of stars.
Let me be habañero. Let me be cascabel.
Home is always a hunger
and each god wants sacrifice.
The quetzal cries out from
my heart’s dark door.
Oh, mis muertos,
beneath this deep snow I’m born to,
let me be Mexico.