UNTIL THE SEA CLOSED OVER US AND THE LIGHT WAS GONE
—Dante, Canto XXVI
But if the truth is dreamed of toward the morning—El Paso
Although it was really last summer’s song,
all this summer Despacito played on
as slower then I turned myself to gaze
upon Juarez. The summer everything
hurts my eyes, a dozen Thai boys tweezed from
beneath the surface, the picnic table shirts
of those bold Croats, even words sprayed below
the bridge I walked back across: Sabes el
camino? Do I know the way? Donde?
Wolves change rivers. A swallowtail lingers.
It was summer all morning & all night
& soon it would always be summer so
I point us toward the far sea & mean
we approach the ocean like returning.
And going our lonely way through that dead land—Salt Flat
We approach the ocean like returningsoldiers, arms open wide, or we approachthe ocean like border patrol pickupsspeeding six hundred fifty-something milesof exposed skin. We approach the ocean likepoachers, galloping at the speed of blood.
