By | 28 February 2013

postcard poems from the Americas

1 Pisco

Lima cries for Spain.

Spain was a swan in its hands
with a rosy cloaca
and a cock that tasted
of bullmeat.

Lima cries for Spain.

2 Cachaça

In Sao Paolo,
a monarch’s fears
are many.

Yet few could imagine
the statutory pain
of a marble face
eaten by acid rain.

3 Mezcal

Boys sell chiclets
in Tenochtitlan.
Beneath the catholic church,
Aztec temples.
Beneath Aztec temples,
the savage lake.
A man pastes posters
for a salsa band
at the temple gates.
And your mother, too,
they have raped.

4 Bourbon

On pillows of Hampshire green,
its father’s breast,
Washington weeps
Keep! Keep!

5 Seco

In the cantina,
Panama is drinking.

6 Rum

Every song Havana sings
is a prisoner’s song
from El Morro
with a voice of ballast rum
and sand.

Havana has much to offer.
Havana has HIV infection.
Havana has a lovely complexion.
Havana offers much of what it has.
Havana has shingles.
Havana has crabs.
Havana has what Havana has.

7 Chicha

In La Paz, men whistle. Men bang bangers and crank crankers. They thump and bump.
They rub and hump. They harrumph. When the men speak, they speak only to say, We
men speak very little
. Men under their hair handle nuts and bolts like the breasts
of women. They twist clockwise and counter-clockwise fitting things together. Men
tighten things up. Men loosen things off. Men work at women with their hydraulic
couplings. You can see men under pressure, beating within the heads of men. You
can see men in their heads beating men. The soft skulls of men. The soft slick
skulls of men. They could embrace men. They could kill men. Men hold gears to their
teeth like apples or the beautiful tips of cocks. It is hard to take men, there are
so many. Look at these streets in La Paz – covered with men.

8 Pisco

A massive steel beam is moved by a crane stenciled with the capital letters IOTA.

A man crouched on his haunches paints a chainlink fence with rust coloured paint.

A woman rinses her mouth with water carried in pipes of copper mined from the open pits of Chuquicamata.

In the smoke from smelter #8, Maria and Co. incorporate.

At a meeting of the syndicata, a Codelco man raises his hand feeling a sudden secondary syphilitic stigmata.

He seconds the pain of Santiago.

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