Tommy Archuleta

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Tommy Archuleta

Ànima Azul

No telling what got into the day’s black throat

One’s out on the porch scolding
the creek once a river
with no sign of softening

The other out back threatening
what was mother’s vegetable garden

It’s true I think what they say about the body’s
autopilot shut down long
before the last breath flies

The soul meanwhile left there
to wait on all fours for the cotton-mouthed
        heart to exile it

Though vowed to a life of silence it does
speak ghost fluently loves
tapas and of course flying dreams

Which is to say it has no fear of falling

Tommy Archuleta reads “Ànima Azul”

Tommy Archuleta is a mental health counselor for the New Mexico Corrections Department. Most recently his work has appeared in New England Review, Laurel Review, Lily Review, Guesthouse, and the Poem-a-Day series sponsored by the Academy of American Poets. His debut collection entitled, Susto, is slated for release March 2023 through the Center for Literary Publishing as a Mountain/West Poetry Series title. He lives on the Cochiti Reservation and writes there.