a loose cento-sestina
I am cosmically outrageous, a tragic orchestra. Mother dressed him in guava-
colored lace crinolines and the silence of the orchid. His head, a smashed
piñata of bone and blood, a country with 180,000 orphans, the irony
of barbed wire.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture, outrageous
flowers as big as human / heads. The truth is you can be orphaned again
and again and again. Where my mother once peddled guavas,
she sat a small Dora piñata in her lap and read a piece about Freud's Dora
case study of hysteria, putting the two Doras in dialogue with one another,
concealed among orchids of subtle idiosyncrasy.
In the orchid garden, winter
like a barbed-wire sash on a white gown for piñatas to line themselves up
in the snow. The outrageous Pentecostal rush: a flesh-pink guava
growing inside you. Pewter seedlings became moonlight orphans,
orphans are the only ones who get to choose their fathers— he ghastly
orchid. I say guava and mean childhood stuck in a barb wire snare.
Outrageous when I'm on the scene so he'd get the first whack
at the piñata.
Well, what's in the piñata? they asked. This orphan,
this foundling, this outcast. Outrageous when I'm at a party,
my hot mouth for an orchid. No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping
of books— the guava of independence.
Pyramids of onion, guava,
melon—all defy. Flare like a shocked piñata crisscrossed the sky
like barbed wire. The Baudelaire orphans climbed aboard, wide-
mouthed orchids. Bibliography is outrageous.
Poor little orphan boy
of five: The haunches of dead lovers gleam as clear in skulls as in
the orchid's velvet crust. Outrageous / when I
move my body—.
- Roy G. Guzmán (from Jet Fuel Review)