Book Read Free

A Grave is Given Supper

Page 5

by Mike Soto


  Gratitude inscribed in gold,

  carefully thought out dedications

  on plaques for cargo passed safely

  across the border. Black hats stuffed

  with dollars, copies of recently

  obtained deeds & passports.

  Some arrive in monster trucks,

  others in vintage cars with airbrushed

  murals on their hoods paying homage.

  Those who believe more & more people

  seek Malverde’s help for distorted

  reasons say nothing. Don’t say anything

  about the vendors selling keychains,

  Malverde wallets, the rows of plastic busts.

  Consuelo skirts thru the crowd,

  moves in like a cloud over the day

  to darken it. She recognizes the faces:

  the man with a flattop in a black

  leather jacket, the one with the face

  of an iguana, the other wearing

  mirrored sunglasses had a diamond grill

  that read CHANGO when he smiled

  at her. Consuelo gets close to the man

  with the flattop. For a moment he stares

  right at her, but can’t place who

  she is. Consuelo holds her hand out,

  shows him a prickly pear split down

  the middle, its ultraviolet redness

  irresistible. He can’t help but reach

  for it & shock his hand with spines.

  By the time he looks up, his eyes

  are yellow, the room is lit with

  faces trying not to look,

  & Consuelo is in the street thinking

  how much better the chapel looked

  hollowed out, the bright hum of its

  emptiness, the ecstasy of landing

  in front of those walls, pushed by

  a storm into that space Topito

  had smeared—the delirium.

  Memento Mori in Three Exponential Ifs

  1

  If every star is a grave, I’ve held tunnels

  against the windows of trains when they

  mirror the face of me trying to look out.

  2

  If letting go is a kind of light, I’ve floated

  candlelit ferries away from my fingertips,

  watched them invade my dreams to stretch

  the vanishing point back a few miles.

  If letting go is a kind of light, the live handles

  of a kettle once burned me, blackened

  copper was once the night, & afterward,

  until the day they unwrapped the bandages

  from my hands, I slept backward—awake

  in my dreams, asleep in the so-called real.

  If letting go is a kind of light, I’ve set fire

  to mansions, memories no longer

  tracks to follow, every picture a horse on

  the ground writhing from black to burned.

  3

  If the Dance of Death means love has lured me

  into a black Lincoln whose body has been polished

  to ring the entire road back, then I’ve deflowered

  the muse in the back seat, bribed the black gloves

  of a driver to go around the block a few times

  before arriving to the porchlight of a house

  I always knew was mine. If the Dance of Death is

  the pope, president, pink corner store prostitute,

  two-stepping to the same song played backward

  & slowed down; if the Dance of Death is a square

  inside a circle no one escapes, some play by rules

  & die with regrets, others say fuck rules & die

  astonished—I’ve let a skeleton with a third eye

  take me by the wrist, I’ve danced in Death’s

  strobe light with hundreds of others who needed

  to unwind. If the Dance of Death means I’ve been

  saying Yes to the same Skinny Lady in the silver dress

  that has made her lucky for thousands of years—

  I’ll weigh my heart against a feather at the scales

  & win. I’ll greet the end with the swagger

  in my heart jeweled & intact. I’ll hold hands

  with the factory worker, the woman who

  Hula-Hoops at the light for money. If the Dance

  of Death means I’ll use my last Yes to leap

  the space between reason & belief—I’ll fly

  out of this life as only a swallow trapped

  in the rafters can. If I step thru my front door

  & find no floor to speak of I’ll sing Cielito Lindo

  all the way down. I’ll tell the skeletons holding

  my hands it was me who turned over all

  the tables & laughed maniacally in Death’s

  banquet hall. If the Dance of Death

  descends on the distracted

  faces of man—I’ll be fine, this whole time

  I’ve been a wrestler who entered the ring

  only to have his mask taken off,

  so I could be naked, humiliated, robbed of all

  sarcasm—so I could finally put down the gun

  & pick up the fight. If the Dance of Death

  represents the courtship between matador

  & minotaur, if the allegory means none of the stars

  are graves & letting go is not a kind of light.

  Death the Coppersmith

  Death stared at me like I was one

  of those clocks with a bird in its belly.

  I turned my back on his handshake

  to run but a gun on a table blocked

  the way out. I knew the game had

  changed. A prayer lit immediately

  on my lips:

  Malverde, tú que moras en la gloria y estás muy cerca de Dios, concédeme este pequeño favor: llena mi alma de gozo, dame reposo, dame bienestar, y en los espacios más oscuros, hazme dichoso.

  The note next to the gun read:

      Eres el rey—Consuelo,

  in her handwriting but her hand

  was forced, you could tell.

  Pearl handle, silver fixtures, my first

  & last name engraved on its handle.

  Outside, the bright grind of our footsteps

  signed our fates to the showdown.

  It’s true the tiny hourglass that stood

  between us told us when to draw.

  It’s true the hole I made of his left eye

  with my first shot was the only one I got.

  I fired over and over but my hand

  veered left to miss him every time.

  All the holes he put in me, one

  after the other, leaked with my

  life & the last thing I remember:

  Death with one eye coming

  toward me, the copper kettle he

  carried turning black then green.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to the editors of the following publications where many of these poems first appeared:

  The Arkansas International: “The Dead Women”

  Birdfeast: “Everyday Tunnels”

  The Boiler: “Paloma Negra or, Consuelo’s Mistake”; “Fue El Estado”

  The Carolina Quarterly: “[Let the rifle sleep & take the path]”

  The Cincinnati Review: “Dressing up a Drug Lord”

  fields: “Instructions or, Consuelo’s Yes”

  Fou Magazine: “The Invention or, Consuelo’s Explanation of the Third Eye”; “Laundry across Balconies or, Deciding to Fold”

  Fugue: “Mercury Topaz”

  Gulf Coast: “[To say I love you put a bird on a wire]”

  Hobart: “[Aluminum children run holding snakeskins up]”; “Topito’s Fate”

  Hot Metal Bridge: “Breve Historia”

  Huizache: “Breaking an Open Window”

  Interrupture: “Consuelo’s Vision”

  The Iowa Review: “[The first time
I saw Death her dress]”; “[A dung beetle climbed out of the dead]”; “[Got out of the Datsun, found myself]”

  The Journal: “Death the Coppersmith”

  Michigan Quarterly Review: “[At the top of the Ferris wheel, the city]”

  Moonstone: “[Looking to get my name written on]” “Ampersand Kings”

  New Delta Review: “First Supper”

  PANK: “[Sixty-eight were found without heads]”; “Missing (Consuelo’s List)”; “Blank Chapel or, Consuelo’s Mistake”

  Rust + Moth: “Fog Having Tea with a Graveyard”

  Poetry Northwest: “Hourglass with Bat Wings”; “The Useful Rituals”; “Topito”

  Radar Poetry: “[When the firing squad lined up, honey]”

  Shenandoah: “The Next Life”; “Consuelo Gone”

  Thank you to Maria Chelko and Claudia Cortese, whose close reading helped shape many of these poems. A special thanks to Kelsey Shwetz, whose insights helped me finish this book.

  Thank you for the love, support, & comradery that helped pave this book’s path: Diego Enrique Flores, William G. Lockwood, Rebecca Satellite, Lux Ruiz, Martha Elena Eyzaguirre Ordóñez, Anna Stockwell (for the Useful Rituals), Sophia Sunseri, Boris Tsessarsky, Joe Milazzo. Thank you to Vermont Studio Center, and my peers of VSC April ’19. Thank you to my peers & teachers of the MFA program at Sarah Lawrence College. Thank you to Suzanne Gardinier for reading this manuscript’s cards.

  Many thanks to Will Evans for his faith in this book, & to my family for their love & support.

  In memory of Nevada Hill & Thomas Lux.

  MIKE SOTO is a first generation Mexican American, raised in East Dallas and in a small town in Michoacán. He is the author of the chapbooks Beyond the Shadow’s Ink and, most recently, Dallas Spleen. He received his MFA from Sarah Lawrence College, & was awarded the James Merrill Poetry Fellowship by Vermont Studio Center in 2019. A Grave Is Given Supper is his debut collection of poetry.

  PARTNERS

  FIRST EDITION MEMBERSHIP

  Anonymous (9)

  Donna Wilhelm

  TRANSLATOR’S CIRCLE

  Ben & Sharon Fountain

  Cullen Schaar and Amanda Alvarez

  Meriwether Evans

  PRINTER’S PRESS MEMBERSHIP

  Allred Capital Management

  Charles Dee Mitchell

  David Tomlinson & Kathryn Berry

  Farley Houston

  Jeff Leuschel

  John Rodgers

  Judy Pollock

  Loretta Siciliano

  Lori Feathers

  Mark Perkins

  Mary Ann Thompson-Frenk & Joshua Frenk

  Matthew Rittmayer

  Nick Storch

  Pixel and Texel

  Robert Appel

  Social Venture Partners Dallas

  Stephen Bullock

  Thomas DiPiero

  AUTHOR’S LEAGUE

  Christie Tull

  David Hale Smith

  Jacob Seifring

  Lissa Dunlay

  Stephen Bullock

  PUBLISHER’S LEAGUE

  Adam Rekerdres

  Justin Childress

  Kay Cattarulla

  KMGMT

  Olga Kislova

  Peggy Carr

  Susan B. Reese

  EDITOR’S LEAGUE

  Amrit Dhir

  Brandon Kennedy

  Dallas Sonnier

  Garth Hallberg

  Greg McConeghy

  Jeremy Hays and Cody Cosmic

  Joe Milazzo

  Kate & Art Anderson

  Linda Nell Evans

  L. Robert Stevens

  Mary Moore Grimaldi

  Maryam O. Baig

  Michael Mullins

  Mike Kaminsky

  Mya Coursey

  Nancy Rebal

  P&C Sandoval

  Patricia Storace

  Ron Restrepo

  Ryan Todd

  Scott & Katy Nimmons

  Sean Cotter

  Stephanie Keller

  Stephen Goldfarb

  Steven Harding

  Suejean Kim

  Susan and Warren Ernst

  Symphonic Source

  Tim Coursey

  Wendy Belcher

  READER’S LEAGUE

  Caitlin Baker

  Cameron E Greene

  Caroline Casey

  Carolyn Mulligan

  Chilton Thomson

  Gavin Newman

  Jeff Waxman

  Jerry Hawkins

  Jorge Marcos

  JR. Forasteros

  Kate Johnson

  Kayla Finstein

  Kelly Britson

  Kelly & Corby Baxter

  Linda Mowl

  Lisa and Donovan Davidson

  Marian Schwartz & Reid Minot

  Marlo D. Cruz Pagan

  Mary Dibbern

  Matthew Pitt

  Thomas Lee

  Tina Lin

  Tony Messenger

  Valerie Cooper

  ADDITIONAL DONORS

  Alan Shockley

  Amanda & Bjorn Beer

  Andrew Yorke

  Anonymous (10)

  Ashley Milne Shadoin

  Bob & Katherine Penn

  Brandon Childress

  Charley Mitcherson

  Charley Rejsek

  Cheryl Thompson

  Chloe Pak

  Cone Johnson

  CS Maynard

  Daniel J. Hale

  Daniela Hurezanu

  Dori Boone-Costantino

  Ed Nawotka

  Elizabeth Gillette

  Elizabeth Van Vleck

  Erin Kubatzky

  Ester & Matt Harrison

  Grace Kenney

  Hillary Richards

  JJ Italiano

  Jeremy Hughes

  John Darnielle

  Julie Janicke Muhsmann

  Kelly Falconer

  Kevin Richardson

  Laura Thomson

  Lea Courington

  Leigh Ann Pike

  Lowell Frye

  Maaza Mengiste

  Mark Haber

  Mary Cline

  Maynard Thomson

  Michael Reklis

  Mike Soto

  Mokhtar Ramadan

  Nikki & Dennis Gibson

  Patrick Kukucka

  Patrick Kutcher

  Rev. Elizabeth & Neil Moseley

  Richard Meyer

  Sherry Perry

  Sydneyann Binion

  Stephen Harding

  Stephen Williamson

  Susan Carp

  Theater Jones

  Tim Perttula

  Tony Thomson

  SUBSCRIBERS

  Audrey Golosky

  Ben Fountain

  Ben Nichols

  Carol Trimmer

  Caroline West

  Charles Dee Mitchell

  Charlie Wilcox

  Chris Mullikin

  Chris Sweet

  Courtney Sheedy

  Dan Pope

  Daniel Kushner

  Derek Maine

  Fred Griffin

  Heath Dollar

  Hillary Richards

  Ian Robinson

  Jason Linden

  Jody Sims

  Joe Milazzo

  John Winkelman

  Kate Ivey

  Kenneth McClain

  Kirsten Hanson

  Lance Stack

  Lisa Balabanlilar

  Luke Bassett

  Margaret Terwey

  Martha Gifford

  Megan Coker

  Michael Binkley

  Michael Elliott

  Michael Lighty

  Molly Lunn

  Nathan Dize

  Neal Chuang

  Radhika Sharma

  Shelby Vincent

  Stephanie Barr

  Ted Goff

  Vincent Granata

  William Pate

  AVAILABLE NOW FROM DEEP VELLUM


  MICHÈLE AUDIN · One Hundred Twenty-One Days

  translated by Christiana Hills · FRANCE

  BAE SUAH · Recitation

  translated by Deborah Smith · SOUTH KOREA

  EDUARDO BERTI · The Imagined Land

  translated by Charlotte Coombe · ARGENTINA

  CARMEN BOULLOSA · Texas:The Great Theft · Before · Heavens on Earth

  translated by Samantha Schnee · Peter Bush · Shelby Vincent · MEXICO

  LEILA S. CHUDORI · Home

  translated by John H. McGlynn · INDONESIA

  SARAH CLEAVE, ed. · Banthology: Stories from Banned Nations ·

  IRAN, IRAQ, LIBYA, SOMALIA, SUDAN, SYRIA & YEMEN

  ANANDA DEVI · Eve Out of Her Ruins

  translated by Jeffrey Zuckerman · MAURITIUS

  ALISA GANIEVA · Bride and Groom · The Mountain and the Wall

  translated by Carol Apollonio · RUSSIA

  ANNE GARRÉTA · Sphinx · Not One Day

  translated by Emma Ramadan · FRANCE

  JÓN GNARR · The Indian · The Pirate · The Outlaw

  translated by Lytton Smith · ICELAND

  GOETHE · The Golden Goblet: Selected Poems

  translated by Zsuzsanna Ozsváth and Frederick Turner · GERMANY

  NOEMI JAFFE · What Are the Blind Men Dreaming?

  translated by Julia Sanches & Ellen Elias-Bursac · BRAZIL

  CLAUDIA SALAZAR JIMÉNEZ · Blood of the Dawn

  translated by Elizabeth Bryer · PERU

  JUNG YOUNG MOON · Seven Samurai Swept Away in a River · Vaseline Buddha

  translated by Yewon Jung · SOUTH KOREA

  FOWZIA KARIMI · Above Us the Milky Way: An Illuminated Alphabet · USA

  KIM YIDEUM · Blood Sisters

  translated by Ji yoon Lee · SOUTH KOREA

  JOSEFINE KLOUGART · Of Darkness

  translated by Martin Aitken · DENMARK

  YANICK LAHENS · Moonbath

  translated by Emily Gogolak · HAITI

  FOUAD LAROUI · The Curious Case of Dassoukine’s Trousers

  translated by Emma Ramadan · MOROCCO

  MARIA GABRIELA LLANSOL · The Geography of Rebels Trilogy: The Book of Communities;

  The Remaining Life; In the House of July & August

  translated by Audrey Young · PORTUGAL

  PABLO MARTÍN SÁNCHEZ · The Anarchist Who Shared My Name

  translated by Jeff Diteman · SPAIN

  DOROTA MASŁOWSKA · Honey, I Killed the Cats

  translated by Benjamin Paloff · POLAND

  BRICE MATTHIEUSSENT Revenge of the Translator

  translated by Emma Ramadan · FRANCE

  LINA MERUANE · Seeing Red

  translated by Megan McDowell · CHILE

  VALÉRIE MRÉJEN · Black Forest

  translated by Katie Shireen Assef · FRANCE

  FISTON MWANZA MUJILA · Tram 83

  translated by Roland Glasser · DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF CONGO

  ILJA LEONARD PFEIJFFER · La Superba

 

‹ Prev