The Santa Ana Literary Association will be presenting a new poem by a local poet every week this year. This week’s poem is “Santísimo” by Antonia Silva.
Santísimo
By Antonia Silva
late at night el diablo anda suelto while I peel
off my skin scrape away the layers of self
va pisando el mismo pavimento I obsess over
all the times I gathered my family together
under one roof recorriendo el barrio por completo
all my tías commune with angels all my tíos
tattoo mal de ojos on their hearts we are a family
of old stories and caution tales
a grandmother in a hurricane of migration
a grandfather who cracks the creosote code
I join the coyotes in my neighborhood
we howl and scratch our paws
god’s door. we beg no
forgiveness for the boys we ate
we were hungry then and they were
weak. we are hungry now and crave
another meat. our words, a graveyard
of trinket bones and locket hearts
snarl warms our snouts. we bust
down the door and devour this god
we are a family of tradition and travesura the loudest
party on the block where tomato vines creep
up to heaven’s gate my tongue is a broken bottle
a field of agave azul in a sunflower car my teeth
smolder and sharpen I am reclusive reckless
the midnight throat in full bloom my angels spin
the wilted petals into blessings I step out
under a wily winter moon and drink the rivers dry
I water the yarrow in my yard with a bucket of tears
sink into soil and sit so long I become a desert garden
a santa ana wind on the solstice of locura
y el diablo el señor pues igual
y me la fleto si es que me lo topo
como quiera los dos estamos
igual de locos
Note: The italicized words are borrowed song lyrics from “El Diablo Anda Suelto” composed by
Santa Grifa.
Antonia Silva is a queer Mexican-American poet born and raised in Santa Ana, CA. Antonia’s work is published in Tinderbox Poetry Journal, Rising Phoenix Review and forthcoming in Winter Tangerine. Follow Antonia’s work on Instagram @n0palitx.
