On the occasion that i die before i’m thirty,
there must be no mention of my migration or bravery; / if anyone reads poetry, let it only be an ode to green-tea donuts
On the occasion that i die before i’m thirty,
search the notes section of my phone & click on “addresses”—
the third one from the top, go there with a dozen spoiled eggs &
aim for the second balcony, throw eight eggs &
throw the remainder at the other balconies to avoid suspicion;
tell everyone that the first time i made love to a happy trail, i was 17 in a cemetery;
ask my mamá to adorn me in her pearl necklace—she’ll know which one;
tell all my exes that i nevaaaa stopped loving their trifling asses
walk through the richest neighborhood you can find & steal their potted plants,
bring em to the service & gift em to all the guests;
the dress code for fifteen days following my death will be lace,
anyone who doesn’t follow through nevaaaa learned how to love me;
serve sour gummy worms, Kit Kats, & hot Cheetos as the appetizer,
pork belly & pineapple skewers as main dish & red velvet cheesecake for dessert;
i want Ivy Queen’s “Yo Quiero Bailar” as the opening prayer;
if you must start a GoFundMe, only allow it to be to book City Girls
in the closing remarks, there must be no mention of my migration or bravery;
if anyone reads poetry, let it only be an ode to green-tea donuts;
when they finally decide to put away my body, spray rose water on my corpse,
pick up the oldest bottle of mezcal you can find & place it inside my casket.
On the occasion that i die before i’m thirty, remember that i was more than papers; remember that i was more than gender; remember that i was more than flesh.
On the occasion that i die before i’m thirty, call me a lover; call me a hoe; meyours.
Alan Pelaez Lopez is an AfroIndigenous poet, installation and adornment artist from Oaxaca, México. They are the author of ‘Intergalactic Travels: poems from a fugitive alien’ (The Operating System, 2020) and ‘to love and mourn in the age of displacement’ (Nomadic Press, 2020). They live in Oakland, CA and organize nationally with Black LGBTQIA+ migrants and other people who throw down with the work. Catch them crying at coffee shops, dancing bachata in a cute lil jumpsuit or watching vogue videos on Twitter.
More in this series
Love Me A Man Who Cries
I claw / against the syrup to love other men / for whom, bless them, a bird is just / a bird.
“Path of Totality”: A Poetry Reading by Niina Pollari
Niina Pollari reads the title poem from her new collection published by Soft Skull Press
