Jessie Janeshek

Criadora Ladrona aka Carmen’s Curse

I eat so much moneyslut tumbleweed
truck-drunktaco stuffedat Electric Sunset
I don’t know my noisesa warm tale of vengeance
seared white by the ancientdanger of craneshottub drug running
in benevolent light.

Dear Goddear cunt
dear carbinedear night
we snort our coke at the river
switch out this helmetfor a dry mystification
a walk in the bindweedor, orange-lipped
a pixie-cut shroudsinge what’s left of the hanging tree
to be more effeminateor ghost-town effective.

Should we renameour Billy the Kid game
BTK in soft focus and will Letty let Rex
let us leave the hotel?

I doubt our ability’ssoft charcoal snakes
in awe of black weatherleatherflesh in the dell
a carbine or a cabinfrozen like a cross.

The forensic examinercalled this moon seminal.
I’m an admirerbut I’m not going to drive
one-hundred milesto pile her ribs in some cave.

Plan Your Next Adventure in the Land of Asaltabancos

Texas means friendshipor fornication
mink coats that smelland electrical prods
where out in the westRex is vexing the night

and we’re high in the badlandsafraid of excitement
unwrapping the bodieslove-happy and armed.

The penalty takes placeoutside our hipzones
the promise of fishscale cocaine poking through
calves frozen next to the reservoir flume.
This is release from their drought-driven teeth
geological airslitsthe era of fire
to where lizards turn white and dark armpit hairs
stick in the stucco of pubic tattoos.

This is where we missthe gunshotsorange lipstick
swallow the vistaof inhibition
narco-satanico gypsum and French fries.
We were addicted to velvet-lined vans
white tennis shoes maquiladoras.

Now it all sounds the samein that comforting way
of bone psychology
or a veteran ghost in the aquifier.Rex wasn’t a saint
or a mastermind. We’re too skinny to drink
and the snow on our crimes is the lonely reality.