Dan Flore

El Diablo

El Diablo
sun rash going on now
dead blue dove day
at a mid tempo speed
Arizona desert
you can almost think,
life is common denominator of doom
tractor trailer loss of control on the road
carcass of armidillo
West Yaqui River Virus
dead rising from the waters
headphone wire, black snake in your ear
you’re writing mirages
in your notepads and sleep
El Diablo
the ancient perfume
you left in your parents’ bathroom
that tells you it’s dead
blood flower nectar squirt
on the side of a muted gold van
unloading giant desert radial tires
being surveilled for robbery
the paint peeling on the bodegas
looks like your skin
make a wish
into the dead pink
Madonna statue’s eyes.

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