“We must conceive of identity not as something that is contained on a map, but as a fabric
of exchange” - Silvia Rivera Cusicanqui
“The major contribution of Latin America to Western culture is to be found in its systematic
destruction of the concepts of unity and purity.” -Silviano Santiago
es blur this blur be.
a mar as el mar. vital hauntology dressed
in neithernor. el espacio entre.
an unsyncopated algo-
rithm less got mad good at spotting
you spitting you splitting
you down the marrow. etch a sketch you
in halves to bleed you out.
keep you task masking
and calling it play. that’s why
you need to be muddy fuzzy not exactly all together.
a source with no origin. nothing the clique the click
can clock can block chain up and feed
back into boolean sorcery.
be ch’ixi. mystery. vago. vagrant. a niebla
so out of focus they can’t even call you
radical. cause this mar this moreno is both
too much and not enough.
is the sound system
you hauled to the pool
five days a week until a bully
tossed it into the deep end
but still you b-boyed home riding cut up kaleidoscopes.
belting out of key a mutt libretto.
chaostinatos. protean bombas
about a bucket of kittens
you found at the free throw
line. son, you loved them kittens.
played Strange Days for them. became their madre
at fifteen. you were ch’ixi then as ch’ixi now.
blazing at fundraisers
in a magenta skirt. a diasporadic aberration
chopping stone clones. the original
rubric wrecker making it known
the bar has been met only when every child turns
themselves into
unanswerable question.
something surveys can’t capture.
the magica of an Other that says whole nother
be that. inexact. be motley. be ch’ixi, yo.
un borrosa blotting the bleat
of algonquin addicts
who can’t see we don’t want
what they want. don’t want want.
just wanton burning to feel boomtastic. this blur,
a reclamation of our boogaloo first blurted
by the hurricane gente who
wove us with chant and blade
in the tropics. topical solution to the yesno
is the mar. the malo conejo. bronceado.
deee liteful degrading
the delusion of taxonomy
y bogus map traps.
be that. that messy blotch.
a bleeding blemish fogging charters penned by sons
of no beach. who read but can’t spell. Hubris eyed suckers
thinking they can slay infinity in a suburban
stumping to be ill
without a license.
they too be ch’ixi pero they just can’t see it.
can’t fathom el vago is the antidote. the opaque
orphan that knows
lineage is gratuitous
montage in a movie
too bland for this mesa.
this blur is bloody though. a wound
wound around the DMZ. the international
zone coaster riding where
there are no rails. choreograffiti.
borrosa the disruptor figuring
what else you got to do on a Saturday
but break this bot’s back.
alls i’m saying is ch’ixi is the shit, kid.
is repair from that repartimiento nonsense.
is lumumba making out with moctezuma.
is that grease Willie Bobo
and D’Angelo fry up
to remind you you
won’t be around
to spend that bonus
anyway, ‘chacho. this ch’ixi is stirred.
smothered in manteca. wastes
annexation. a funky abdication.
este vago this blur is
blood blended with Lima bronze.
is the prism’s deliverance.
a brotherhood that can only be expressed through sisterhood.
this mar is possessed. charismata.
portraiture as panorama.
primordial kind of blue.
presence como prescience of the notyet
and the whatevercuz.
exalted exaggeration.
vida as a hiccup. shuffled hippocampus.
quantized prolepsis. xenogenerosity.
excoriation of the severmongers.
bust it. ain’t too proud to beg you to
to be the enigmatic ecstatic.
negation of all negation.
the flyest kind of flowering.
a ditty anyone can play
if they don’t bother.
this blur is anacalypsis.
existence as ellipsis.
hypnopompic plena planted
to bomb labels. to bloom ch’ixi on your
lapel. make matter myth. myth matter.
mad math resisting.
story of the soon to be. the cuir. the cualquier.
the not ever almost entirely. the perennial
maybe. be this. Be blur. the isn’t. the isthmus.
the is. the es. essence of quien que
que? a hemispheric WTF?
blur blooded built in a lab Latinerd cyborg
ch’ixi club kid colony colon botcher you
possibly maybe perhaps perchance
wasn’t born to be pero ‘chacho that’s
what you gonna be anyways cause por que no?
