by Christopher Perkins
A Poem for Itsy
(who died on my chest)
Hideously ugly before
Her moment of transition.
Her little body worked so hard,
So she’s tired being so fierce.
Then, I felt her big heart slow down & down
Not knowing what was happening
Her looking into my eyes,
A kick of her patita before
Feeling the last shudders of life
Vibrate out from her little body
Until she went into a smooth silence.
She died & I could do nothing all but cry, hold her.
She did it in her own time,
A simple desert girl who loved to eat its flowers.
Her strength & fragility now in rigor mortis.
Now my ancestor,
Dear & demonic all at once.
The alpha, she got what she wanted, as usual,
Her Itsy-Bitsy Way.
My petite trooper,
Now bathed by whatever universal elementD come your way,
You now belong to my ancestral realm.