Track 1: Roses by Alex Z. Salinas

Roses are red. 

Roses are red especially dead. 

Roses are rainbows sans everything but red. 

I prick my fingers on roses. 

My fingers gush hues of roses. 

When I ingest sulfa my body breaks out in roses. 

In the name of roses stalwart English tore off heads. 

Umberto Eco smeared conspiracies in the name of roses. 

Certain babies are photographed on beds of roses. 

Certain babies are crowned after roses. 

Apolo Ohno’s soul patch is a garden of baby roses. 

My mother’s middle name is the singular of roses. 

My mother allows only one to present her with roses. 

Valentine’s Day is slang for roses.

Roses is lingo for plague. 

Love the smell of roses in the morning. 

OutKast said roses really smell like poo-poo-oo. 

I place petals of roses in the middle of unread books. 

Rosy cheeks aren’t as breathtaking as roses. 

Rosacea is a disgraceful homage to roses. 

The first buds I likely befriended in school: roses. 

Licked a few roses in my days. 

When my ghost says sayonara, 

I’ll bring a bouquet of 15 roses for Peter at the gates.

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Alex Z. Salinas is the author of four poetry collections and a book of stories, City Lights From the Upside Down, which was included in the National Book Critics Circle's Critical Notes. He holds an M.A. in English Literature and Language from St. Mary's University, and lives in San Antonio, Texas. His novel, The Dream Life of Larry Rios, is forthcoming in 2025 through FlowerSong Press.