Diary of the Ghost of a Mestiza

                                           Written in the sorcerer’s house mis palabras

are a mutilated palace
                                           spread across a lake.

Preview

There are worldwide, catastrophic storms
When earth’s network
Of weather-control satellites
Is sabotaged by unknown enemies.

The Rabbits

They expressed my desire
To mount and be
Mounted as they scurried
Into the darkest parts of what

Lovers in the Time of Nuclear Power

Translated from the Japanese by Jeffrey Angles

Two Poems

every poem I write is about the same thing:
how ordinary it is to want a long line of sunrises,
bowls of oatmeal with you—in other words

Three Poems

Sit still you told me. Give the desert
           what belongs to the desert. A vessel of dust
is all you will be, dimwit. Be a dear and shape

Epistle

            In the market to be a sense is
pealing out the surface areas. A fruit seller
is terse, sagittal. How summer is
a fit expression, as germane as botanic.

Cooking, Writing Poetry

Translated from the Japanese by Jeffrey Angles

‘@Tubman’s_Rock

    People also ask     what is Harriet Tubman most famous for?   
Flying bondsmen on French leave steal away
    They drove Emmett Till toward Money, Mississippi
Behind enemy lines   
    our Moses   never lost a passenger      
People also ask   why is Harriet Tubman   important   to the world?   

Don’t Ask: A Questionnaire

What [ let’s don’t
           say
           who ] do
you trust?

A Dusting

However Mother has reappeared—
Say, as motes on a feather duster—
Scientists say the galaxy
Was created thus. This daybreak
She seeds a cumulous cloud.

How I Got Here

I blame my father’s father and my mother blames my mother’s father and my father blames my father’s mother and my father’s mother blames my mother’s mother’s father but mostly I blame my father’s father and my mother’s mother and my mother and my father for procreating

Two Poems

5) – Excuse me, said Child, but aren’t we enough
 to ride the bulk of hymns, sideshow and burden,
 our debt grown and lasting in the gut.

Two Poems

my anonymous maker or makers were not
out to fashion amphorae, or ways to store oil, so much
as shaping vessels for the awkward soul.

Three Poems

Standing in the implacable solitude
I felt sick and doomed
and all too delicate.

Poem of No Regrets

or few, or less than
should be expected,
or a handful, or as much
as a normal living
human hand