I dream the jogger killed in the parkDuring the blackout we held the stars before they fell a fire rain marked the skin our bodies formed a cross on the cool cement Carmelita will you leave I said there is nowhere she said the dark was a big balloon on her face she held ten moons at her fingertips the boiling pot hissed a crab escaped felt through the night with its tentacled eyes freedom moves sideways comes in forms we know like a crab in the city headed for the sea I had to burn to keep it from boiling I dream the jogger killed in the park runs circles 'round my bed I dream chupacabras look through my windows I dream and count worlds formed on the cracked ceiling paint there is a circus it is also Istanbul I mumble Carmelita there is a place or two she cannot hear me Carmelita is at the graveyard stabbing her heart with grass blades the compass has one cardinal it points to the path that gets us closer I climb the mango tree after the monsoon rain I reach the golden sap the drowned mosquito the drunken moss my left foot slips to join Carmelita to be on cool cement to fall through the blackout to become a star to wave at Carmelita from up there to see the lanterns in her mouth the fireflies dancing in the shape of her head to prove there is a place or two look there goes a crab she said Yanira Rodriguez is an MFA candidate at Syracuse University. Other recent work can be found in that other amazing literary journal NightBlock. |