An Open Letter To Mr. Zapata

 I climb my wire basket.
I cut my heels on the sun
My peaches fall and 
bleeding sweat,
juice smoking red.
I two-step twenty foot fall
fences, Mr Zapata.
I cut my lips on silver wire
Dirt falls from my feet just
like a dog
I shout Zapatista, 
Zapata
I swallow dog water, Mr. Z
I swim my heels open 
I hear them chase and yell 
"Gringo Gringo Gringo" 
My oranges roll away home 
I whistle Zapata,  Zapatista
I blister in the sun 
Gringo Gringo Gringo
My oranges burn in the sun
I summer-salt my leather tongue burns 
Like the bottom of an empty shaker
Or cruel phantoms of salt 
I cough heavy silver shots
I tear my pesos like moons
I feel dog-breath wet and pant  
greasy moonlight 
I shout I remember, 
Senora I am broken between binoculars 
I hide them I hide my pesos I hide
an insect they glimmer like 
gouged eyes
covered in grime
I cross I break my voice
I sing Zapatista

I woke and dropped my water

It hisses like hot teeth 

I jingle I shake my pants loose 

I say I'm calling, Senor

Calling my Silver 

I see a big man he has crushed eyebrows 

I see his sunglasses smell air

I hear laughter like flying knives

I sing Zapata Zapatista I see his thumb

fat and green

I see he spits dominoes and

laughs shame like flies

I say I have shame like flies

I see his eyes burn ice

I say I Am Senor

I say I 

Call my silver

I see he plays hambone with guns

I say Senora my leg bitten

By dogs called federal

I am coming home

If I can slip through

This wire mesh and bars

The man outside he laughs

Time to eat

Gringo Gringo Gringo

I will starve with you

In seven years