the first voice

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dishboy don't feel so lonely when you look
up into the night and find yourself

falling in love              with justice
no. don't ask any questions. don't

look at the ripe moon. when you stop crying
vato/ the moon will still be there. the rifle

will still be there/ beckoning your hands
the skinny dog will still be barking

assaulting the streets with the hoarse howls
of his songs/ as if he understood your rage

no. dishboy. che will not wait for you
he will not be lighting stars for you in the forest

you're alone ese. just you. and the night
and songs you wrote to a girl you loved:

"i give you my crippled fingers rotting
with soap. i give you what's left of this liver
i'll keep my socks even though

you can have my feet. i give you this tower
of beer cans. and a cluster of sparkplugs
still warm with the remnants of fire"

no/ dishboy no one will remember your voice
don't you see? it's just you and a rifle

and the bandoliers         of rebellion
crisscrossing     your chest.    waiting

to explode like the black iris
of revolution on zapata's chest