download.scythe_program:revolucionaria!
download.scythe_program:revolucionaria!
download.scythe_program:revolucionaria!
download.scythe_program:revolucionaria!

Vitoria Pérez

even the bones surrounding my eyes may
                                                          ache
their weight rolled around behind closed eyelids
these images never end, the
y are churned

from the              depths

(Print!) of the ground gushing out
like the rusted taste of old, silent blood
old blood that                  gushes pus, that makes
 way
for the sebum of the                    )insert))

past
to froth up
through the orifice separating
                                the planet{s plates

endless droning groan from space
fax marchine belonging
                                                            to the divine
it spits out memories of blood inching
up the walls, leaving memory
 lines where
the water had been still for a mere moment
pray now children for the
sake of your father
blessed blessed holy holy, sing they now
their changeling chants that summoned
 them out
of the woods, on
                                                hands and knees crawling
for the rotting fence, the burnt old fire barrel,
the old wood-panelled trailer that bore cuts of meat
cuts of meat and dried venison, whose tongue lolled
parting its lips — do you know where you are?
do you recall, or is this a fragment of a dream
an image cut from the fabric of the towel
that scooped up your child body, that let
you float, your hands grasping for the daguerreotype
that you could not simply pass through your fingers
it slipped away like water and
you wondered where home was
you wondered where home was
you thought it was somewhere several interstates ago.

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