Ana Istarú

my mother’s death has a name many names with first names and surnames I know no one sweating bent over with pain will go from door to door calling out where is the high school girl the one they killed with their trigger fingers the town’s powerful men the ones who wrote around her neck […]

The scent of thought, of meadow, of manger. Let the universe pass with its cape of sparks. Let it roll in the incline of purple winds. Let it tear its forehead like a drunken crooner. I listen to this crumb of bellowing crystal, the glow spilling from such slender lips, small cupful of flesh, little […]

Hello, pain, let’s dance. Today you will be my short-lived lover. Your ship’s siren, your sonorous rings in my mouth, I know, I know. Oh, Jehova’s beast, your bite’s point-blank. Hello pain. Let’s dance, what the hell. Soon I’ll watch you burn, rabid, alone in your parade and I, spilling froth from my breasts, delighting […]