by Adrianna Pacha
It’s a cold morning feels Chilean 
With all the silence and
Prowling goats and stone
I drink mint tea with a slice of orange to
drag down the rain this is my prayer I
Wait until the tea has seeped into my blood then sit
Outside on the cranky earth and hissing grass
Without shoes or the choke of time
It gets warmer
But the rain doesn’t come
Only a cat
Colored dusty Oklahoma with
A notch from one ear her right
She licks my hand with a bubblegum tongue
Rough as the grit sticking to
My criss-crossed legs
And I wonder how long this rain business
Will take so I spin in circles
To mark the time like a washing machine
But get too
Dizzy and fall the cat crawls
On my chest
I’m beginning to think I’ve prayed
For the wrong thing
I’ve never been to Chile
But this is probably what it feels like