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Chip Livingston
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Los Santos de la República

There have been so many gods I’ve loved
My sex is devoted and dedicated to Eros
Excessive examinations religious and secular

There are so many gods to love
Interpreting exaltations celestial, sexual
A musing of muses as saints feast and famine

The miracles witnessed as corporal mammon
My text is devotion, dedication to Eros
There are so many gods I love

Memorial Day, Williamsburg Studio

and the funk doesn’t knock out the pencil

artist  
       the mesquite charcoal tongue
                                                                       ushers

the numb-eared                 their due oiling

       behind toms missing nothing

                the loud crowd pounding

                        an unremembered fire rising

                        against

                the artist

       the crowd

     the snake

coiling

its fair docking


San Cono

                                 / 1991
San Cono born in
                                 \ 1854

                                                                in a small town in the interior

                           / Florida gives us hope
The legendary
                           \ Floridas combine
                                                                \ the same dream   

I won’t be a Saturday monk

                                        / horseback the beach
                           I will
                                        \ meet you at the obelisk

                                          / superiors
We will           knot the
                 un/                  \ superior’s acceptance

             Let oxen cross the Florida straits
                                          we pilgrims
                                          other channels

Fidel San Cono  =  chapel

                                                          / bound to Argentina
               with par consideration
                                                          \ alloyed to Brooklyn

And in between the bathing spaces

                           / cult of sleep
              To our
                           \ Maximo

                                                     / modest luck
                            San Cono of   – games of chance
                                                     \ fraternal allies

              Patron of small perfections


Chip Livingston is the author of a novel, a collection of essays and stories, and two poetry collections. His writing has appeared in Ploughshares, Prairie Schooner, New American Writing, and on the Academy of American Poets and the Poetry Academy websites, among other journals and anthologies. Chip teaches in the low-rez MFA program at the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, NM. He lives in Montevideo, Uruguay.


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