The royal palms bathe in the soft warm air of February and everywhere I look there is the play of glittering afternoon light—on store windows and metal bistro tables, on the well-polished always white Mercedes and Lexuses, on the sorbet pinks and oranges and lime greens of faux-Spanish buildings. The most ordinary things here seem
So much for the wound in me seeking a piebald answer in the tulip’s streak cataracted by first frost, the blue jay flapping across the grass, one-winged, his flying this crawl through blades he hues, tenor and vehicle this bird and me, both of us trying to accept such ritual exchange.
On the night Billy Ray was born
(New York, 28th and 7th)
not one soul contemplated the geraniums
There was, however, the sound of the world falling
like multiple stalactites
in the area surrounding the hospital
The wolf belongs to the boy I to the wolf
I ask permission to still be myself this time of night.
Sem barriga, sem fome, sem bebida. Blue notes
from a dead man’s tribute creep up my balcony.
Damn, you know how you know a song,
Over a hundred men suspected of being gay are being abducted, tortured and even killed in the southern Russian republic of Chechnya… —CNN
Looking out at the blue sky we listen to news of men in Chechnya. Touching counters, our washrags move like ghosts. You sweep the kitchen. I tend the cry of the washing machine, the low roof that is our only roof.
they say that the most impressive of all crossings is not thirst or the fear afterwards. The humiliation no longer wounds what does not exist they say bodies in a boat of bodies veins eyes skin penis nails vagina
35 Enter inhale. Enter time. Enter inheritance. Enter or else. Enter doors with handles, without handles, manually manipulated. Enter alone feelings. Enter tension. Struggle entering bitterness enter. Love turning towards lust enter. Historic languages enter. Human conditions of oppression enter. Enter roadside assistance. Enter talented man killed too soon. Gravemarker write L.O.W. Enter near Dayton settlement but specifically at Englewood location. Enter chirping bird sounds out of the ceiling again. Enter your own music mixing up into the chirps of birds. Enter memory again. Enter thought again. Enter more and more gunshots. Enter yelling. Enter empathy and critical engagement.