Daniel Fierro

IN YOUR NAME ELISA (BRETON) THERE IS A LIGHTHOUSE WHICH HOLDS AT BAY THE
VOICE OF A DYING LOOK
Miguel de Carvalho

butterflies, sable pride

in one place sits a referendum of horses
counting off the days until the world
shrivels up and becomes a cage

the worth of antonyms is equal to
the sugar falling angry out of your teeth

ionic sister catastrophe

paralyzed filter brain

recount your wives tales on the backs of
filthy ants crawling up the singular wave

so in the mirrors, as in the salt coffins
dust of integers, particles grating the bed

to the kin of sandals, tranquilizer in the most
tree of redemptions

I see a train, that final jewel of our relentless
laughing