M.R. Briceño - Two Poems

Jim Beam

Let my love die.
Sink it in all of the
dead dreams
and full ashtrays
of the world.
Let it sink,
and then let it die.
Let my ambition die.
Let me out of every
ivy-league college
and every law degree
and every law book
and every law man
that promises
everything for
nothing.
Let me sink further
into perdition
and let me rot
without sunlight
for years, decades.
Let me look at the sky
alone smoking a cheap,
whore cigarette
while I think of
all of the things
that I didn’t do,
or I’m not doing,
because
if I look at the sky
long enough,
some day I will see
a supernova,
and it will be fire,
and it will light everything
for a second
brighter than it ever
was.



The Tigress

My dearest woman,
I know now
the wild cries
of the animals
late at night,
the wolf,
the cow, the chicken,
the crow,
but I always
feel my fingers burn
and my spine twitch
when I hear
your roar,
the roar of a
tigress
leaping forward,
her claws
and teeth
locked on a piece
of red,
dead
meat.



M. R. Briceño is a young writer from León, México. A slacker and a procrastinator, he wastes his time writing instead of studying.