Aleinu
Dear Allen Ginsberg, no angelheaded hipster am I,nor have I ever seen those staggering Mohammedan angels–not in my deepest swirling dreams.Some life force always...
Patty
As all eyes close against younothing that really matters could yield to the wisdomwith which you suffer like an amorphous shadereaching over the desperate...
puddling
late summer sunbeams
fall through forest leaves
wet with recent rain
my path beside the creek
slippery with puddles
mud and round wet stones
without warning
a cloud...
Afterward, in Waves
I’m no longer afraid of not doingthe right thing.
I leave clothes on the drying rackfor days.
Reading, I eat chocolate,smear the page.
It’s not...
In the third grade, I sat in the last row.Chalk dust whisper down the slate blackboard.The radiators hammered like anvilsthroughout the morning. In the...
Clouds weep on theWindows adding their sorrow to my unchecked sadness. Sun tries to drysky’s tears, shine throughbut fog shrouds sky,effectively blockingany warmth from...
The following poem was translated from Zarpamos, a selection ofpoems by the Oaxacan poet Guadalupe Ángela, translated from Spanishinto English by Yael Kiken. This...
Ode to Mama’s Mac and Cheese
A recipe passed downfrom her Mamawhen she was twenty-fourand hungry.
Some kind of tomatoes,whatever noodles you can find,and any cheese...
