GHOST CULTURE

ELISA LUNA-ADY

 
 

this is the poem where i admit to inhabiting two bodies simultaneously on wednesday i

become an acolyte to my own necrosis i choke on the dying girls stuffed between my

bones there is a constant dissociation of cultures mashing together in my mouth white

gums to white teeth i call out to my anglo mother and spanish dribbles from my lip as
saliva unswallowed she can’t make out my sound or decrypt the words so i reach through
borders for my father he has many names among them: mauricio oscar raymond man of

immense light malaise clandestino and more my hand lands in my mother’s stomach i
spend a year unraveling her intestines before i realize i am killing her slowly and only

then does she rebuke me i am glad to know body heists are self-taught but even so i
cannot smell myself among her innards there is not a trace of my father’s ghost left in the
old f street apartments he once filled they are the color of a child’s scab the ones near the
adult video store in hillcrest with the blacked out windows i wonder afterwards while
appraising my half-dead half-dying mongrel body in a mirror did i kill my parents or did
they kill me?

 

 
 

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