Iliana Gravina

Good Night, and Sweet Dreams!

Elvis Presley guided our car down State Highway 99,
cacti aligned the trail,
his words melted in the cracks of my skull.
I get so lonely I could die.

The car crumpled like a metal can.
The crash was head on, I felt it in my toes.
My mother’s eyeballs spoke to me
Illy you must not scream too loud.

Thick rust stained my top lip,
the smell of iron seared my nostrils,
its taste, pungent
like bursting pomegranates. 

We’re as beautiful as a sewer.
We already planted the hawthorns.
We already watered them twice.
Thorns grew on the flowers.

Glass whispered to my broken ribs
as my ankles wept in pain.
Smoke surrounded the blood wheel,
traveled down my throat,
strangled my lungs.
Buona note e sogni d’oro!