The creatures of the Sonoran mutate
to survive its undying convulsion:
inherited heat augmented death drive
fated peripheral biorhythmic
apocalypse— In Wickenburg I kneeled
at a treatment center’s boundary line
each dusk to gawk at the indigo-flamed
horizon above vast land like a sea:
its brutal hypnotic antiquity
a reminder the guilt I cited as
evidence of my depravity would
not outlast the desert’s desire to
burn the atmosphere of its fallacy
and render it all barren and pristine—
Before I arrived I was necrotic
inward and in outlook The Sonoran
recognized my austerity as its
own taught me how to survive the arid
air and channel it: I can sense monsoons
with my teeth grit erosion into steam
Eva Alter is an American poet and information professional. Her work catalogs internal mythologies by pulling from procedural, formal, experimental, and lyric forms. Her debut chapbook, AUTOCARTOGRAPHIES, was published by Eulogy Press in October 2025, and her work is published or forthcoming in American Poetry Journal, BRUISER, Appalachian Journal, and elsewhere. She can be found at evaalterpoet.com, @/eva_alter_poet on Twitter, and @/eva.alter.poet on Instagram.

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