The body applies order.Count the tiles so yourMother doesn’t die.Vultures ate our lands but couldn’t fly.
Kneel, said the fatherSay their names nine times, then yours,Benedictions of the broken Mexicans.At church, the robed purified with ashes from your home.
Took a razor and shaved yourFace to be your father’sAs blood dripped down the toilet seatBlessed, like the water the priest drowned you in.
Cupped her breasts. Bound your chestWith silk strings of a wedding dress.The bellies danced to the rhythmsof their hunger. Prayed, ate the beads.
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