El Dia de los Muertos

Yellow blooms, ruptured and craving the sun
Twisting in the fluorescent light-an asphalt liar
Flickering, chain link, a brown laceration
Running the length of the rusty wire
Braided cable and brittle coarse fiber.

Tangled, a flower in each open eye
Always happy all the time, there’s no fire
In your soul; you’re always high
A tulip in manure, don’t you wanna fly
Slip off the slimy cement, feel the deep
Rushing water and grainy charcoal sky
The roar of splintered timbers; my love

Leap off the levee with me, and let the storm
Wrap itself around your thin frigid form.
We rush together deified, out to the sea.