Three Bottles Poem by rosalinda flores martinez

I sat there in the night, restless
Sentinel to watch over three
Bottles in the site to be filled

I would wait one thousandth, of a
Liter every hour dropp trickles
water into the brim

Drop fuses
Red, orange, and yellow
Three bottles once empty make
me stay, not leave for anything

I taste catsup and sauce
See packed rainbows
Smell mint and roses

It makes my brain shiver and my
hands tight with each other
Three bottles filling with blood

Small waves dripping and rippling
killing small waves slowly peak
a fiend in me

Now, tides of darkness and raging
dawn force me, press me, push me,
again and again

Spine bows to slurp, sip hard, even
swallow then grind with teeth
three bottles, blood and bottles

Doctor Einsts will be coming,
I must hurry now. He’d prick and
taste me, so happy to see a naked
gleaming corpse

My eyes sprout with tears,
one docile patient
in the corner bursting

still
till three bottles,
are all full.


rose flores - martinez
2.19.2009