What a museum I’ll become
if I regret nothing.
(poetry)
Tag: Poetry
Rebellion is hard labor for the trees;
It’s fraught with liberation from the roots.
For all their curves, the trunks are not to blame
(translation, poetry)
The toast pops & I flinch like a suspect—
everything lately has been too warm,
too sudden,
too much like your name in the dark.
(poetry)
she was / pleasure / lit up / gold-dust and / bright spot / her flash like a gem
(poetry)
Lights . . . camera . . . aaak-zyun!
I can detect from these children’s faces
their desire to finish their studies.
It’s painful for me to experience violence.
(translation, poetry)
Taller today, in emptied summer city
the height of the deceased singer
five foot five, weight one twenty
people with basement apartments
were short and wore one-piece
bathing suits to beaches and lakes
(poetry)
In the dream, we were still harvesting.
My hands were dark with dust
and bitter from the olives.
Someone laughed when I missed the basket.
(poetry)
When the bride buzzed in,
the groom held my mom’s roses.
We had 15 minutes.
Cuffs: no. La palabra
de Dios: Sí.
(poetry)
