Concerning the Necropolitical Landscape

Dear Mother // I apologize for these instructions regarding my belated death // but police keep pestering parents on where to shake their child’s ashes // fuck that // Dance & laugh my ashes into the volcanoes [volcanoes look like Earth’s pimples // about to burst] Dear Mother // I hope neither of us dies but rather // we drift into alzheimers together like Abuela years ago // We can walk out of the house in our bathrobes // waving at police cars & thinking they’re taxis taking fathers home // Dear Mother I haven’t told you but bombs in Chelsea were so close to me last fall // I fell& prayed to Holy Nuns of the Erectile Dysfunction Committee but still // I’ll never understand why // God made something so beautiful as the sun // on the ridge // to be blinding Dear Mother // I’ve been much too slow to say thank you The word twisted on my tongue // I stutter to say th-thanks!! & maybe it’s my accent // unable to pronounce refrigrator En español //refrigerador// As if our language was a child who wet the bed from being tickled too much // & if we only speak one language // can we name her Joy // Dear Mother I’ve read the credit report // & America fiscally sponsored the Civil War in El Salvador // where men had genitals cut off stuffed into their mouths // their heads decapitated & placed between their legs // Tio saw all his friends // students slumped on chain link fences // after marching outside the university As a child // I never thought how difficult it must’ve been to pick the heads of daisies with me // by the swimming pool Each petal pulled // I’d recite //he loves me//he loves me not God must // in the most bloated nights // the fullest nights God must’ve known // you’d follow me outside “heaven’s gates” What an oxymoron // There must be a heaven that’s boundless & unbridled // where we can seek asylum // Dear Mother // please teach me how to hold the sorrow // without losing my arms