Diary of the Ghost of a Mestiza

Desirée Alvarez

                       Written in the sorcerer's house mis palabras

are a mutilated palace

                       spread across a lake.

            Elliptical pyramid. Oval. Oral.

            My words are manzanilla crying

            tea, storming the road yellow.

Mis palabras are heavy coated coati trundling home to the jungle.

My words are great ant hills scarring the limbs of mangroves

                       My words stalk black hummocks.

I sleep by the yucca so my words can taste licorice all night.

            Mis palabras are mistletoe tangling chechem trees,

            they fill the wood collector's bicycle cart.

Mis palabras are electrified seashells torching the dirt path

to the village smelling of dinner fire.

                        They are crisp leaves of poison underfoot.

   My words are plants

   blooming only on moonless nights. They say

let the land stay

   and the ruin stay ruined.

           Let the vines come

      and reptiles make their slow way across the dry earth.

    Let great birds of hallucination return, and jaguars

                                 take back the forest.

Let us, the ruthlessly

human, retreat.