poetry

my spine is curved & looking down on the earth.the other day, a stranger raised my chin up with her  finger, asked the name of my loneliness, & walked meto the end of the road, my hand in hers. before i was  born, i must have wished, with all of mygoodness,...

    My house is furnished with jars of tar and spit they don’t belong to me but take up the empty spaces Leave the TV on after dinner to drown the stillness with canned laughter or politicians on the evening news if the volume is loud enough, then you can...

Us,romping in the uncut grasseswe gathered across decades.Us, our hands, squeezingthe desperate pigments from four soured walls.Us, singing with daytime vigorand doubts all heaven-bound. Us,and these word-taught lung whispers propping up the big ladder,watching the...

     I remember fondness dirtier. The stark contour, your touch. The things we’ll do bereft of nerves. The light’s hard. The rug burns.   Where would I look for comfort in a body? A lover’s full weight only disappoints me. Damp breath on my mouth....

Abuelo, going back to the pueblo, the home, the place where I grew up, and not finding you there, makes me feel lost. I feel like I’m in a limbo, in an empty space … I cannot think, I just feel a lot of emotions emerging from the bottom of my chest. It is like a flock...

Process.ion 35, Urte LaukaiyteBach and Us     When I see a pond, I think of   how you saw a koi fish orange yin stitched on its back and fattened by the waning light knowing the salt of its yang didn’t belong in soy-noted dipping sauce but in the lurch...

Plaque Depicting a Quail Chick, Unknown, Egyptian, Ptolemaic Period (332–30 BCE)The parrot in this one can talk   The bird at first was rescheduled Johnny had bronchitis, could not speak the parrot she replaced died the night before air   When the bird flies...

Process.ion 25, Urte LaukaityteAnd what of that black bat who wove through the yard in the early evening?   Did it see us?  Our synchronized eyes fixed to its wild circuit which just grazed the surface  of the swimming pool before its upswing into the Kayce’s...

Blue Gray Violet Wheel, Yvonne Estrada On the train a man tells me I look just like his daughter. He crosses many feet to say this: you look just like my daughter. He shows me a photo to prove it. He wears a reflective vest:   maybe a construction worker, or a...

Rogers Fund 1970. Stonepaste; blue and black painted under transparent glaze (Sultanabad ware).Yesterday afternoon I made an observationOne that came from wasting away the morning lying in loneliness and in the nudeMy belly had been burnt by the heating pad with...