Monday, May 17, 2010

Two poems by Sergio Ortiz

Two poems
by Sergio Ortiz

My Palace in the Shade

I’ve spoken to my hands before,
whenever I’ve had visions

of Hitler with a hose up his rectum
in hell. My smile reaches new limits.

Why—peeping through Hoffman’s camera—am I
more alive alone than when I am with another man?

I know people have nightmares about blood,
if not about blood, roots. It’s an excuse

to keep dying, and ask for the time. My palace
in the shade is full of books packed with questions. Is

the law, cops rubbing their eyes, and its curvature
an American sentence?

Is it true doves are demanding
they be allowed to go to war in heaven?

I’ve become a saint. My grace
has a catheter in its nadir.



This is the red marshland,
where a bird’s broken

thirst sprouts
like cactus: salty,
tired, and sad.

A few goats
rummage through
the weeds

while an ox chews
on the day’s dream.

This is the ground
where I was born obstinate
like a fungus.

and suffocation sleep
below a dead line.

Author bio:

Ortiz has a B.A. in English literature from Inter-American University, and a M.A. in philosophy from World University. His poems have been published, or are forthcoming in: The Acento Review, Poesia, The Driftwood Review, Words-Myth, The Taj Mahal Review, and other journals and anthologies. His chapbook, At the Tail End of Dusk (2009), was published by Flutter Press.

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