~ admin

BOTANICA
8.22.19

November 8, 2013
super typhoon Yolanda was the strongest storm
to ever make landfall in the recorded history of the world
6,340 people died that day.
their homeland
a country of islands drowning in US oceans
in US lands – politicians label climate change a myth
they deny the dead’s existence
as if natural disasters only count when there are white bodies to bury
each year, an average of 20 typhoons hit the Philippines
Stephanie tells me “God is punishing us. How else can you explain this?”
and what can i say
to a woman, born from ocean who fears the sea

the wrong amazon is burning
the wrong ice is melting
black and blue
we’ve made the world one giant bruise
she’s been here long before you
and she will continue to be here, without you
if you do not start giving a shit
she will soon stop giving a shit about you.

how can you call her mother anything
did no one ever tell you about the cracks on the sidewalk?
the erosion on poison youre creating
soon there’ll be nothing but cracks for you to step on
i bet you didn’t know
something so round
could have a spine
that could break
bending over backwards to fit you
feed you
drinking from the tit too long she’s run dry

how are people not mourning?

~ admin

DREAMS
8.21.19

id rather wander, lost for a while
than to stay where i dont belong
looking for the psychic
soulful kinship one requires.
an angel goes out and lets stories – that is life, happen to him.
me subsequently
i work with these stories…
water them with my blood and tears and his laughter.
maintaining my connection to wild
asking myself what it is i want
sorting seed from dirt.
stop. feel. listen to your body.
following does not mean limiting yourself
let your shine be the match where they lack

bone by bone
hair by hair,
wolf comes back
through night dreams
events half understood
and half remembered

important discriminations to make here
what beckons, and things that call from my soul
something mouthwatering will not necessarily satisfy the hunger
of intuition.

i know my role
as a creature of mud and water
my soul requires seeing
in a culture that demands blindness
do not let them break you – know yourself
to love like you means to embrace
at the same time to withstand
many endings
and many, many beginnings
all are one of the same



~ admin

FOOL.S.GOLD

8.20.19
never before
have i so clearly felt the difference
between a house and a home

~ admin

DANCER

8.19.19
“how do you not see physics, Blue?”
sweet naive, you ask the wrong questions
how do you not yet understand
nothing is ever what it seems

i told you before
i’ve been humbled
today i walk gracefully, intentionally, curiously
for someone with a knack
for always knowing more than they should
you are painfully blind

besides, that was fucking rude.


8.17.19
last night i burned alive
came back a little less lunar
a little more human
a little more sunshine now
what witchcraft it is
to sunrise every morning
and not ask if it is time
if the sky is ready
or if we have permission
to burn wildly
what a treacherous thing – knowing my power

that same night you asked
to be on top

i bit my tongue instead of yours
hammers disguised as questions
crushing my glass house ideas of what i think i want
tug of war
with a mind insulted by the thought
making my body shake with desire


8.16.19
Falling like the stars
when you asked why i was nervous
i didn’t realize there were doors still closed
in me
somewhere
i must have know
loving your dance would inevitably mean
one less padlock for me
one more key for you

~ admin

FORTUNA

8.16.19
we summoned shadows of that night back and this time
you had no choice but to see the truth
and as i went to hell, the devil asked me if it was worth it
no knowing how to answer
i made myself of all the love you no longer wanted
making love was never about
you me and a bed
we made love whenever we held hands

so congratulations
you took me down
now you have made everything that is sad, relevant
maybe you re right
maybe i don’t know you
there is cruelty in you that is foreign
it visits drunkenly taking its place at my table
slapping me with coldness and apathy
puts me in a box with guilt ribbons and locks it with disregard

i have no room to be angry here
but what if i told you
cold eyes are burned into my memory
chasing me away
to a different room
a different home
a different lover

one day you realize there are people you will never see again
at least not in the same way.



it was your kindness that killed the beast inside
when i fell in love with you – once upon a time.

~ admin

FOOL(S)GOLD
8.14.19 – later that evening

“Love is something so ugly that the human race would die out if lovers could see what they were doing” (Leonardo da Vinci).”

fucking leaves everything as it is.
fucking may in no way interfere with the actual use of language.
for it cannot give it any foundation either.
it leaves everything as it is.
that wasnt fucking
that was absolute stupidity
reminders that anyone’s claim to round-the-clock dignity is tenuous
a rational animal has a desperate drive
to pair up and moan
and writhe
and destroy everything it loves

~ admin

DANCER

8.14.19

heres the shoe dropping
the slow burn building
consequences stacking in your ovaries
like morning after pills
making you snarl, consume, break out
into temper tantrums
this isnt you
red eyed reactions
you’re not just chemicals
try to breath beyond the : you’ve ruined my body

cracks in that illusion
strange men leading your body better, quicker, stronger than him
trying not to overthink it

easy for you to climb up the ladder
letting me dangle
Fuck you. Fuck your ambivalence.

~ admin

SNAKES-KIN
8.12.19

nettle whips for arthritic pains
burning ferns into shoulders lifting weights off my back
a boy’s seizure makes you love him
a woman naked in your bed
repels you
in breath – out breath

lungs need space for life
and im suffocating
in her arms
when sharing a life feels like an invasion of self
the honey crust on the lid
i take one in the chin with each kindness

~ admin

HISTORY
8.9.19

imagine
propelling halfway across the earth
away from friends, family, language, culture
in pursuit of the unknown

thrilling?
you have a thousand pre-defined impressions based on your fishbowl
yes im sure economy coach – backpacking across Europe’s beer sipping cobble stone archways are more than welcoming to a foreigner who looks just like you, green eyes looking at green eyes, pale sheen of the all too perfect jawlines dimply smiling at their roundtrip ticket comfort.

and you call this culture

news flash honey – your international adventure is no different than a Sedona Jeep tour top down, shaded by sun hats, swimming in the holy vortex waters stained with sunblock and mosquito repellent, you disgust me.

“you don’t look hipsanic”
sweetheart – the line you’ve drawn to define your perception of race
is the narrow minded privilege in which you shelter yourself – daily
im as much hispanic as you are European
Yo Soy Latina
Caribe, Bogota, Cundinamarca
do you not know how insulting that is?
you are the reason grandparents buried their children s accents
burning one language without fully speaking another
imagine the fear of being judged
being greater than the fear of not having a tongue
Spanish was given to our people at the end of a hispanic sword
each rolled R is a red wet finger pointing me back to this
Spanish, is not my native language
english, is not my native language
the languages i speak are bursting with blood, but they are all i have
i own only my hot mouths pending against an assimilation clock
and colonial legacy
and what is “hispanic” to you, anyway?
i could guess what you mean
and assume that it’s the low priced gardening tool like the one buried in the shed behind your Victorian summer home
or that invisible harvesting instrument that picks all of your grapes for you
and has to survive on slave wage plantations without unions or bathroom breaks
or maybe when you say “hispanic” you mean your standing parent
that person who raises your kids for you when you’re tired of being a mom
that mouthless set of hands and knees that scrubs the crap from your toilets
or maybe i haven’t had the need yet
but i haven’t come across a hispanic

I have met Latinos and Latinas
proud of the vibrant quilt we weave across the endless cemetery that cradles our past
a swollen dust underneath our souls
wherever we stand that we nickname “home” twisting roots at war looking for nothing else but to be held
you know, like a family grasping onto each other
because they left behind everything
and only have their memories and each other left
arriving on mars without a guide book or a map

i guess this is what you’re scared off
The fear that you will one day wake up and no longer recognize the great big isles you so proudly call home
before borders were nailed onto the hands and feet of earth my Agua de Panela and your British Tea may have shared a cup of Ethiopian Coffee

its just the immigrant you fear
coming from over there to over here
you’re more cautious chewing when the flavor is new
remember, immigrants don’t have space for caution

imagine no room for caution



~ admin

BOTANICA

08.06.19.

fig love
the type that tendrils
ripe for the picking its
short of a death trap
carnivorous without a badge
there’s nothing digestive about that
only lust that kills and
brings life
plump full fig wasp
what it feels to be made
to die inside that which you love most
let them judge you – i for one know there’s more sting to a bite than venom
we know rejoice-cracked knuckles
build houses more often than they tear them down