Poetry

Jeso Carneiro photo

By

Alejandro Escudé

Heroin Tiger

The tiger is made of heroin, a moving brick,

his stripes each a river of white or orange fur.

When the tiger strikes, his long claws snag

on the iron, escape is a concept like killing.

It’s in the eyes, half petrified, half entranced.

The itinerant man soberly nabbing the head,

surprisingly flouncy, as it elongates itself

too long, a tunnel de Méjico a Arizona pues.

Instead of a house, it could’ve been a cave,

unspeakable whereabouts, a disappointment

the incarceration, yet nothing to the king

of cocaine—the name might make you cry.

Nighttime rabbles return, the impermanent god-

head turning, turning in the morning sun’s fire.

Alejandro Escudé

Alejandro Escudé’s first book of poems, My Earthbound Eye, was published in September 2013. He holds a master’s degree in creative writing from UC Davis and teaches English. Originally from Argentina, Alejandro lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two children.