La Mano (The Hand)
Smooth hands are suspect.
I love the roughness of your touch,
the way your hands snag my silk blouses.
Sandpaper man, angel of the working classes,... more »
La Rana (The Frog)
I sit on a boulder in the Trinity River and make peace with my fear
of the bear. I will leave it here with the tadpoles around my ankles,
speckled stones, tall grass and the frog’s eyes just above the surface.... more »
She folds the first love letter he sent into an origami crane
and goes to the river where she watches it bob
with the current. All the pretty words float downstream,
words like: “rare” and “beautiful, ” silly words really,... more »
At family gatherings he sits across plastic checked tablecloths,
crudités, fried chicken and deviled eggs. Everyone talks at once,
until his voice fires tracers of non sequiturs, and we stop, listen.
We understand him. He’s been leaving silver stones in moonlight... more »
The Horarium Of The Nuns
5: 30 Rise
as feet slide
into cotton slippers,... more »
She is round in all the right places: hips, breasts.
Sweet, you kiss the fullness of her lips,
wet like the juice from a melon, it drips on your chin.
Sticky drops, she licks your chest—... more »
Everything you ever heard is true.
Waves of raven hair ripple down her spine,
nipples point to the sky like absurd... more »
The rocking chair moves
like a sewing machine.
The baby’s cheek forms a seam
with his father’s shoulder,... more »