my father asked no pension for his verses
and left no sounds in the house
it wasn't him but the music that died

I asked my mother for his guitar
she gave me a handful of ash

I became a bride at twelve
wearing my mother's jewels
in haste, in heat, by mistake
at the fair with a ticket
you said to keep the secret

at fifteen I am a widow
in my bed your headless body
freezing cold at noon
time now moves in shudders
my father looks like you

of name untold and pain unsure
in the penultimate hour of the day
a shadow, a murmur, an imprint in the bed
the smallest child next door is dead

The world outside is quiet now
but there is music in the room
sweet mechanical staccato
to the rhythm of machines
a marching tune to depart
in wonder toward the setting stars

all love has been spent
as currency of their intent
and instead a debt of unadulterated rage
like that of Romeo and Juliet

mom is misery, dad is bliss
the kids a thought in the midst
of truly beautiful things
to make them forget their sins

parents divorce twice befell
once in heaven, once in hell
ears ringing with wedding bells
the family trauma unveils

mad and moonly
under me so new
sprouting in love
the seed of lust

half curled fronds
brushing the sand
where desire is set
and in my breath spent

warm summer winds
the night have wet
with the spray of seas
soaked in regret

la imagen de un santo
aparece en mi desvelo
protegiéndome del tiempo
del fantasma y lo real

detona mi fé nuclear
explosión en la obscuridad
iluminando la ausencia
que hace al dolor poeta
y a la muerte belleza

en el redil de la locura
el final del mundo es fortuna

I had chocolate chips for breakfast
a few palpitations for lunch
the weight of loneliness for dinner

I saved the memory of a lover for dessert
but I'm already full
maybe tomorrow
with dreams of a big house sprinkled over
and a cup of distilled tears