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I am an American boy
with a Mexican twin
The night comes with a special kind of softness,
where the music swells and carries itself through the hall
Suddenly—thirty-two nights without seeing a star
Bright shining, good luck, good luck for me.
And the sea has many teeth, far more than I. But if we are one
then I have all the same teeth as the sea, then it has all the same teeth
as I.
In the thousand faceless poems I've read
the moon has never been named a “him.”
Sometimes I like to collapse infinity
into a single point in time I label “now.”
i have come back
to the village i swore i would never see again.
the first missile tears through the skin;
skinning the embers of
a quenched country
I look at you for decades and your words
melt in this subtropical heat.
Air sticks to my skin,
like honey. mosquitos circle my ankles and wrists
Sweet Erin you lay far from me,
In soils toiled by blight and blood.
Your deplorable, horrible, despicable, ignorable.
You reiterate, evaluate, desiccate, and exacerbate.
Can’t you accept the way you look?
Late afternoon.
I never knew a whisper, soft and sweet, could sing
In tranquil lapse.
A poem is when a scattering of swallows suddenly form a perfect v.
A poem is the angle which makes dew on a rose petal look like diamonds.
I believe in
People Places,
A Place for every Person to
On a frosty October morning, I walk to a field
And lie flat on my back in the dewy grass.
The silence can be eerie
Dark, damp and cold
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