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).