Early Morning
rumi wakes to the scent of gunpowder
Ramona wakes and lights a candle for her tongue
it’s early enough to lay dead on a hyphen
a litter of cats die eight deaths
They welcome the fog, slow moving
feeling love for one another
she, his notorious kisses & poetry
he, her love for rolling around in fire
Without blinking, Ramona listens to his words
& how his moustache dances between syllables
rumi in awe, watches her stretch her stare from fall to winter
Both drink in the gossiping mist
He plants squash for his foes
she picks up a rock to stare at her reflection
rumi raises owls, feeds them plantains
they bring him cantos in exchange
Ramona, plants the songs next to a rosemary garden
in a month, teething children will sing the harvest
She chants for rain to go away
by stomping on the earth
He bottles up petrichor
so she won’t forget
Ramona,
porcelain doll with broken fingertips.
rumi, the gluemaster.
They look up at the stars.
Ramona says she sees a shooting opportunity
rumi stares into her eyes and points at stars.
Music plays on the turntable
rumi hums the tune of grackles and a speeding car.
In Search For The Saddest Song
rumi leaves early in the morning
Searching for the saddest song
He walks over to the river
He hears birds sing
Perched above
A tree
A tree
Sad, looming
He hears birds sing
He walks over to the river
Searching for the saddest song
Rumi returns late in the afternoon
Ramona puts out her hand for rumi
To hand over the melancholic lyric
He brought it from the river
Where birds sing, sadly
The saddest song
A long cry
A long cry
The saddest song
Sad songs the birds sang
From over by the rio grande river
A lyric so sad and melancholic both cried
Ramona and rumi cried into each other hands
Ramona and rumi cried along the river of El Rio Grande
After listening to the saddest song the birds sang
Perched above, sad on the anacua tree
Then they slowly came to a hush
The saddest song
A body
A body
A song on replay
Slowly rising from the waters
A small child, a belt, no shoes, one sock
All the birds flee, carrying with them the saddest song
Ramona’s instructions on how to handle the death of a pet chicken
On how to handle the death of a pet chicken:
get down to her level, look into her eyes,
promise her she won't be eaten, tell her she's
the prettiest chicken that ever lived,
read a poem about clouds to her,
code-switch when praying at her feet,
show her where her altar will be when she passes,
bring the other pets in the family to show respect,
promise you won’t eat eggs for nine days as a novena,
kiss her beak, and wait.
Ramona sings her a lullaby,
rumi at a distance, shovel in hand,
prays to the earth for permission to dig.
