Where I’m From (after George Ella Lyon)
I’m from saddles and sweet feed,
tractors, and rusted-out pickups.
I’m from driving before sixteen;
calves tied to domes;
galloping through cornfields
past houses of history…
eo-12
“Why Do You Write?” “To Live.”
How shall I explain?
That I do not create these verses
They create me –
Leaking from my being
Like shedded skin
Tender and fragile and breakable…
Divisible
A twins’ bedroom in 2000. The girls are six, as even as the year and the room. Their mother Cynthia Rose, having duplicated herself, named them Cyn and Rosie: Rosie for a rosier future and Cyn as a middle finger to a preachy grandfather. Cyn’s and Rosie’s twin beds have unwashed sheets and flat pillows and shelves above with two
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Not of Destruction
He claims he’s a dragon
but his scales are painted cardboard—
only for show
He claims he’s a nightmare
but I’ve seen him pick roadside wildflowers…
papaya carica
a story where fruit refuses. up away / temptation tie / leaves blank. / a / stupid fish gimme a church smile / stomach lined / two bucks to delete a wish…
Go to Post >>Life in Red
How many women have cried over blood?
Pouring out of us:
Feminine power come and gone.
Stained tears drenching:
a life desired that hasn’t yet come…
September
My hometown & I are entangled in / a fake dating scheme, where I pretend / I want to go back & it pretends to want me there…
Go to Post >>I/我, U/你 & E/伊: a Modest Proposal
As classic Chinese suggests, we can
Reasonably attain linguistic equality
In English as long as we all agree
To use I, still for the first person singular…
Raspberry Hairs
In another life, let’s start
an all-girl band called Raspberry Hairs.
Maddy on the drums, Nina on the bass,
Brooke with her guitar, Andrea with their cello.
Naira can sing; maybe Liv can learn piano…
apatite
my father holds my hand while i eat at the seder / i say next year in egypt i’ll be better
manna was nothing but a gift / my grandfathers didn’t get so stupid about being skinny…
and so on
She tells me the story of the cursed child. It’s about how the cursed child becomes the curse and she can’t do anything about it. He asks me if I remember what it felt like to love him. I am a casualty of the war I started. I tell her I’ve always been afraid. She asks me what I’m afraid
Go to Post >>untitled
A plantation girl brought me a cup of water / And I told her without restraint about my excitement / My daughter, like a fish, says meow and is looking for a husband…
Go to Post >>Litany of Longing
Tonight, as the sky pee on earth
my roof makes music with it.
Inside, the color of charcoal
engulfs me and the one
I call mine, as we lay
like two farm ridges..