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Bury My Heart in the Martian Sky
ages have passed by
or has it just been minutes
what does it matter
irrelevant time
at the end of a long line
all the clans are gone
at the beginning
we saw plentiful water
through the long-long glass
left, with plenty hope
a fresh world now drifting dirt
new ancestral lands
generations since
survival rates plummeted
I’ve buried them all
it took us too long
to finally get here from there
just to see us die
alone I remain
one voice, one near-silent drum
who will bury me
Shortages
why is there a zombie shortage right now?
a common question; why wouldn’t there be
zombies are having a tough time today
inadequate conditions and respect
rising relentless politicizing
the easing of laws, uptick of gun sales
zombies are always doing more with less
and then everything got even tougher
zombies even got blamed for pandemics
it surely became the most perfect storm
stare at the fear that zombies face each day
constantly within the brutal crosshairs
no wonder that their numbers are dropping
all said, who wants to be a zombie now?
A String of Poe-ku
Edgar Allan Poe:
as he wrote poems did he know
we would fall in love
raven of no name
cries, “nevermore, nevermore”
perched upon a door
Amontillado
like aged-wine, red on your face
brick by brick by brick
masque of a red death
is the mask under the mask
waiting for its time
‘tis Annabel Lee
dead and gone by now you see
lingers like oceans
pendulum waltzes
in the pit of our despairs
swing sharp emotions
dark house collapses
swallowed by an angry earth
the end of Ushers
Chupa-Ku, Volume VI: No. 26-30
“Go tell it on the
Great Chupacabra Mountain”
fatalistic goat
“We Only Serve Goats!”
sign at the prejudiced hotel
Chupacabra Inn
“Chickens Are Welcomed!”
new head chef at Conchitas
el chupacabra
el chupacabra:
bastard child of Cthulhu
and Olmec nagual
el chupacabra:
Scary Monters Magazine’s
Monster Of The Year
Five Sitchin Quatrains, Part VI
Giving Up Secrets:
miles of ice melting at the Far Poles
no Santa Claus village to be found there
undescribed technological secrets
what the hell will we ever make of it
The Hard Answer:
what will the universe say about us
we who kill our planet with arrogance
neglecting environmental issues
or we who reached far into other worlds
HE Who Created Universes:
“You shall have no other gods before me”
a quick warning shot to the sky people
and the humans who dreamed they were real gods
instead of the One and True Creator
Overreaching Idea:
nothing complex when you accept the truth
humans were assisted by aliens
connecting context between “us” and “them”
something much greater created us ALL
Before Dagon:
below the depths of lonely, dark waters
crash landed back during man’s infancy
perhaps star-people live without conscious
eating fish-cousins not yet developed
Juan Manuel Pérez, a Mexican-American poet of indigenous descent and the current Poet Laureate for Corpus Christi, Texas (2019-2020), is the author of O’ Dark Heaven: A Response to Suzette Haden Elgin’s Definition of Horror (2009), Live from La Pryor: The Poetry of Juan Manuel Perez: A Zavala Country Native Son, Volume 1 (2014), and Sex, Lies, and Chupacabras (2015), as well as the co-editor of The Call of the Chupacabra (2018).