So that you are always sir, dear sir

for the Ayotzinapa 43 and all disappeared


I.

Ask me again why I am here
with this pine, this wild oyamel,
their great succulence of reason

You, machine lyric
and State, every state,
maker of rules and so outside them

You, hard blue evenings
with mass emergencies buried
inside them, like me

Your answers endlessly insufficient—
the mayor and his wife, smiling,
waving pinkies, waving dollar bills

Sweet water pouring
into the mind of a cardboard box
The verification of empty

II.

Dear sir, the angle of civilization
the angle of your civilization is too steep

I am speaking certain words and not others
Light rises along my spine

This mountain is a white bone
This republic, a one-note instrument

The president—like a president—deciding
is this one as human?

A forest of marigolds between our knees
"Mexicanos, ¿Cuándo piensas arder?
¿Cuando el desaparecido salga de tu casa?"

Our altars coated with sugar
no place outside the economy of war

When the pan is all gone we will take leave
a parade of ripples with a snake's purpose

This last remittance will cover the cost
if not I will send more, tied to an eagle

The earth is filled with exceptions—
43, a number, so many numbers

I feel around my dark hold
in search of light switch and decomposition

"Ayotzinapa vive
el estado ha muerto"

Bring back the fire

In the bow of our ship, an entrance
a bullet




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