Miami Manifesto Revisited 

Hector nails a Chola with pink eye in the Taco Bell bathroom,
tapes a Glock  to his ankle afterwards, tells us to wait outside

Hector says:
living is forgetting, forget anyone who ever touched you Chica

Dade County heat melts carburetors, tombstones
This parking lot is a fleck in the galaxy and we are pebbles in its mouth

I want to open my stone body, thaw my sadness here, next to Hector as he strokes it out
I want this heat to melt my ghosts to powder blue scars and promises I can swallow

my carbon mouth, velvet touched and craving a thousand walls of blacktop
Ahead of us, the Gulf, we drive and drive


by Nikki

---

Nikki lives in places in and around New York City where she writes poems, studies trees and works at The Museum of Natural History. She reads everything. Poems appear in PoetsArtists Magazine, egg poetry and are forthcoming in several places. She has recently been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She also lives online at www.iwriteasnikki.com.