Photo by Raquel Gutiérrez.

I been there, rock cold pulled from and into
Bombay Beach’s television sandstorm

dead sea and sea salt halts
a desiccated fish grave exhaled
out of sand
where feral seraphim, dished and frayed clouds

ruins on top of ruins, excavate and see inside
the betrothed lives of the Salton Sea

if you have a dream
you have everything,

if love came capsuled inside
every por vida you whispered
then I would accept your version of forever
scrawled on the side of our discarded vessel

an abandoned ship hashtagged and
pawed at by man’s hubris towards sky wide
expanse of nature. cuckold into submission

we could all use a little ruin in our lives
ruin pitchforks itch for the right to ruin
pouring ruin on you like sugar in you, rots.
rein it in and let me pull the reins,
                                              I break it open
                                                          see your ailing reign against romance;
                                                                       you took this and found all the maps
                                                                                and waterways towards ruin,
                                                                                        a dowsing rod for pain.
                          I still love you, mama.
                                                                              Toxicity in the waters
                                                                              a counterfeit sea; I live by the shore now
                                                                                      and when it’s over, apocalypse howl

You are still       who I call out for in the end

 
Raquel Gutiérrez was born in Los Angeles, lives in Tucson, writes poems, teaches, and runs the tiny press, Econo Textual Objects (est. 2014).

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