Nighttrains

When i blow open green bottles

straight across hump of a frozen tongue

when i shove brown glass

through skull of a possum

and pass from my ears a baptism of red piss

when i cry from my butt like a jackal

and throw limbs of a dying mule into the river

when i spit venom from the head

burn codeine into a cosmetic paste

and grieve into a wax of dried bulls

when my mystical bunions jam eyes

into searching spit of a starving wolf

into cosmic lips like monkey genitals

And i receive my pickled turned skeleton of rusty chains

in the bodega

i receive a symbolic heart made of five middle fingers

in the bodega

i receive a teeth parade of yellow roses to leave the bodega

and cross the rio grande

onto the flatbead bones of a musty nighttrain

I say

to see me loosen jaws like a snake

to see me exhausted after a few strikes

to see me pay dirt to the ice hog

in my masai-pachuca-doo

squatting on a pillow of old zoot suits

squatting among the names and breeds

breaking down cheeks dotted

on this night train

and i say i dream of the 1943 riots

I say i dream in a hailstorm of riots

And i say riots dream into a mass of skins stooping

on flatbed bones of a funky nighttrain

And when i siphon sweat for fuel

from this patron saint of chronic diarrhea

When i turn this rubber face into a spotted puma

and take on the forceful winds of the prune pickers

When my laughter dominates the last seat

And i burn labor contracts into brown port caca

Then I approach in mother of pearl and human blood

in father of smoking and coughing throats

and in my jelly of coyote strings

who is to say what when i approach

I mean somewhere along the road in this cold cold chicken shit

somewhere along the road in this wasted body

​somewhere along the road eat stocks, bonds feathers

​somewhere along the road confiscate borders from wild dogs

​somewhere along the road shove them into the imperial valley

​somewhere along the road cry hard

and let this night train sink its

rundown rectum of electric chairs into heaven

and say fuck it

I see a way through the maroon glass of this milky way

I say i see a way through for the cradle of hulls

sticking through these indigo ankles

I see a way through

for these torn shoes stinking like dead cats

I see a way through for these blood-streaked legs

I say i see a way through

for these pus-riddled holes in their suction-cup lips

and when i pass through toothless combs coming from armpits

of the bodega

when i pass through bats on corkscrews coming

from the bodega

when i push my mortified flesh from this bodega

and walk with the mildew of an old zoot suit

walk tall in my mud-packed-masai-pachuca-doo

walk among the survivors from the musty nighttrains

fuck it

I say dreams are like riots

i say we dream in a hailstorm of riots

and I say riots dream into a mass of skins

coming from flatbed bones of the funky funky nighttrains