The Transgendered Dust

  Justice - (Aragón, 2015)

I’ll send you my address

in a letter written in my blood

and our children’s blood

mixed with dirt

and some grease

from our people’s

coronary veins

so you can come visit

me

now

            in

                        exile.

If you come

please bring a blindfold

to cover your eyes

and your throat

from the microscopic

rubbish dumps

our alveoli

have blown into

the land

when we extracted them

mixed with our veins

to plant the tangled breathing branches

inverted like a tree

or an eternal fist

of condensed smoke.

 

Here in this new soil

the bird’s mouth

has dissolved

in pancreatic acid

and the slit lips

resemble the broken windows

and the stolen roads

taken from us,

taken away.

 

My father

was called one day

in a foreign tongue

made of concrete

by a liberal time

called hunger

he was called to die

to become the salt

of our country’s leaves

for when the soldiers

came to use him as fuel.

 

The livers they

extirpated from

the grey doves

have already been reduced

to ashes

and now

the misplaced children

together with the displaced sea

drowning

without hands or legs

beg god

for a stable boat

but he is somewhere else

his eyes

a handful of torn dollars

sprinkled with oxide

in the silent wind;

 

if you come please bring

two blindfolds

to cover your eyes

and your throat

in order to not scream

and to not see

the drowning child

not helped

by god’s

microscopic handful

of transgendered

 

dust.


by Angel Aragón

 by Fallujah.