In the dark bedroom, moonlightthreads the latticed door.I hold out a bowl of warm noodlesfor Mother. She wipes droolfrom the corner of her mouth,rose-cotton scarf tied around her head.Blood moon bathes our feeton the cold granite floor.Begonia unfurls a leaf. In two weeks,she will be gone.All autumn I shall lie on her cot,absence swathing my…
Hearing the news scares her into wordslike boobs, then my girls comes bobbling out—but her daughter’s words are serious (diagnosis)and she tries to listen but just can’t keep herselffrom reminiscing about her hourglass figureand men she dated years and years beforewho called her Sweater Girl. Silence.Will this daughter give up? Or like the deershe sang about in church, crazed with thirst,crashing through…
For David Shapiro If you are happy you will be sadIf you are sad you can be happyIf you are happy Daddy says control yourselfIf you are happy Mommy wants to be happy tooIf Mommy is happy you must be sadIf you are sad Mommy feels betterIf Mommy feels better Daddy is happyIf Daddy is…
Through Hell and what he saw the dead one thereI wrote a poem of the dead one goingAnd who alive is more than that the deadOne going and who is less how he was ledThrough by a bird named Law like law all-knowingWhere all is anguish and guilt spoils the air And now to write again I ask…
Some turnto the kitchen sink,I prefer backyards.Perfect noonfor cleaning mackerel. No gloves.Squat low and leanforward. Fine drizzleon Moringa,scaling. Scatter of silver. Blood smear.Gutting innardsis more addictivethan love or tea.Spawning clouds of August. Last night,I dreamed of wakinginto you, lazilyinhaling monsoon.Moon seeding in my womb.
Called widow makers because their branches fallduring droughts. They sever their own branches to conserve water, to save the whole tree. As if cuttingoff a hand to save a whole body. How does the tree decide what to drop? This one dropped two limbs,one onto a car. It only took the men a day to remove the…
No matter where I went todayI was not Michael.I was not even the shadowof my middle name.No name took my place,no name was asked.When I sat on a benchthinking of you, tryingto see your face,I was not Michael—I knew because the rainchose to fall nearbut not upon me,and it wasn’t to makean exception.People were walking…
Friday—first day of fall Two friends, two beers each. One has just held the hand of theother’s dying mama, regaling her with tales of her son’smisadventures. He’s moving to Houston the next day, far intothe flooding swamp. Mama is quiet, peaceful, pain-free. Go, shesays, go have a good time. After the two beers the friends…
My roommate was having an argumentwith his girlfriend: It’s the wrong key. No it’s not. Well it isn’t working. Once you and I had disagreements like that,I ended it. But there was a pointwhen I had a codeto your front door. People had the wrong idea about us.No socks on the stairswas one of your…
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