Across The Ashen Sea

Abuela stood guard while us boys
ate beans and tortillas

the ray gun machinegun pointed out the window
she had once shot the earlobe

off an alien at a thousand yards
that’s about as close as you’d want an alien to get

tomorrow we must cross the cinders plain
the beetled boat would have to suffice

we told each other none of us very confident
the hill from which the sun rose

was straw pink when it was time to go
we paddled for what seemed like light years

our sombreros soaked from the constant rain
tooth fish swam in abuela’s bonnet

the shoreline was in a slumber when we landed
and did not put up a fight

each grain of sand protected by a force field
the sea had an appetite of skin

we found refuge in a cave
which motioned to us in its sour clothes

sometimes you have to wonder
how and why these planets came to be