Category: Poetry

shredding the barn, lining up tiny red blue green toy soldiers for sale. The grasses have dried to flame , the stairs are dust and customers roam all the rooms picking up, putting down books and cups, silks and soft eider pillows. Even the mountain bey … Continue Reading

We came upon the overturned boat engulfed in catbrier, timbers rotting, far from any body of water. How had we missed it? Hardly any blue left on the hull. You were leaving me, I was leaving you, but neither of us had so declared. One thing we always d … Continue Reading

We are working in boxes stacked up on wire, pulling our eyes closer together. I’m writing you to confess to my failures as I brew in the cracked tea pot on the window sill, Teetering between the snow and a steamy room with two moon faces. Let’s have a … Continue Reading

Wind, a branch broken glass, but still cloud on the horizon where a line of people walk bent thick & thin, walk from what they left, but there is no where- they-are-going-to. One foot presses down, hurts or slips, weighs more than can be lifted. Th … Continue Reading

Mere feet from fire station, the Big Y thief burns an old couple in their bed. Cut throats, empty wallets, then burn. Mami shoves some chicken into microwave. Twenty minutes on high. Papi’s pollo scorches,her fingertips burn. Jahn Foundry explosion. No … Continue Reading

Not to bless, but desiccate instead the hot spit on lips shaping hate suddenly at center. The confused backing away, backs now together wanting a blessing on pins & posts, the placards & uncertain plans, questions, answers, the demands. Yes, a … Continue Reading

The more you shared memories that broke off inside you, the longer I stayed every time you hit me. At nineteen, I thought that was love. Soldier-you smoked opium to forget boys, whose high-pitched voices chimed about promises of bikes, rice above ratio … Continue Reading

The mother of all storms is upon us. We are taken aback, our skirts blow up. We show our panties, bad girls all of us, march off to school with our lunch boxes open. Do you want my apple? Do you want my pear? See all the fruit for the taking, piled hig … Continue Reading

Stormy night: a pallid ant clings to slick fibers of a wind-flayed string. Too dumb to hope, too keen to despair, it pauses mid-string to interrogate the air with antennae restless with autonomy that try to amplify the ant’s economy of movement with el … Continue Reading

A jar of pork fat from the small pig your rancheros slaughtered for New Year’s Eve. El aceite del chancho, miraculously slid through Atlanta customs. The same nebulous color of the clouds of Peñas Blancas, suspended somewhere between a solid and a liqu … Continue Reading

“The world is better now that you are here.” That was what the sign above the entrance read. It was wooden; the letters were black. I remember analyzing it as I shuffled off the bus, my mind going through the motions of acceptance, making sure to harde … Continue Reading

He paints a picture with a slow precision Every stroke a product of his weighted thoughts He drags the brush across the canvas with a gasp and his breath rushes out making barely a whisper He is an artist who sits with one fist curled as he captures hi … Continue Reading