LOS ÁNGELES
March 18, 2021
We’re going to see the angels / my father says but in Spanish
Guernica
A Magazine of Global Arts & Politics
Poetry
AudioPoetry
Poetry
A Bulldozer’s American Dream
March 4, 2021
At the construction site the bulldozer works days & nights. / No, it is the man inside who works.
Poetry
Poem About Human Habits of Consumption That Begins with Contemplating the Walnut in My Yard
January 14, 2021
Who parted / your shell, in wedge & tear?
Poetry
The Living Dead
December 10, 2020
They do not think that they will disappear / into the amusement park / of
nothingness.
Poetry
Dispatch from the Clorox War
November 19, 2020
I believe there are two worlds. / In one of them I clean it all, / all the time.
Poetry
The Cannon on the Hood of My Father’s Car
November 5, 2020
Someone tore the cannon off the hood. That’s why we missed it.
Poetry
The Repast of a Lion in Dream
October 15, 2020
Unbuilding each rampart of our small, animal hearts.
Poetry
Pandemic Jobs for Poets
August 7, 2020
Young poets join the army: burial of the dead is already / on your resume.
Poetry
good friday or second nocturne with the invisible shepherd
May 15, 2020
father is everything but a good snake / charmer.
Poetry
Is This Not Why You Are Here?
April 24, 2020
He didn’t see the flares / because our dreams are limitless.
Poetry
Visitation
April 10, 2020
Light! Light! I hear her calling when she’s a block away as if she’s a monger of light.
Poetry
Your Name Means Garden
March 27, 2020
What does it mean to graduate / your way through the world?
Poetry
Hurricanes with the Names of My Friends
March 13, 2020
We are disappearing into / the map’s folds. Small birds. Smaller ones.
Poetry
[You button this coat as if one sleeve]
February 28, 2020
making room for the night sky / the dead try on
Poetry
Blank Notes
February 14, 2020
How about adopting a fully grown girl? Says a broken-headed doll.
AudioPoetry
The Empty City
January 10, 2020
I went to the doctor and found out / there is an empty city inside me.
AudioPoetry
Milk Teeth
December 23, 2019
I lean my open neck against yours. / The miracle always returns with a hunger.
Poetry
Portrait of a Boy with Grief
December 6, 2019
you will open your wounds / and make them a garden
Poetry
from 13th Balloon
November 8, 2019
Since you died a thousand birds / have daily flown through me
Poetry
I Would Steal a Car for You
October 25, 2019
I may be sixty-two, but I wish I could steal a car for you.
Poetry
Out of Water
October 4, 2019
The sea of simpler songs only the drowned and the fish know to sing.
Poetry
I Am Your Abyss
September 26, 2019
I am your young death. And here I am found: / In me is your skeleton. I carry it within.
AudioPoetry
indelible in the hippocampus
August 20, 2019
Memory is no solid monument but liquid’s / twins of substance and ceaseless swell.
Poetry
Dream Seminar
May 22, 2019
Every dream is crowded with faces and bodies— / there are more dreamed people than there are us.
Poetry
A Wedding, or What We Unlearned from Descartes
May 8, 2019
Yes / body, you are owed a whole lake.
Poetry
Shadow of the Colossus
April 18, 2019
We were made to suffer. Mostly, / the man you love doesn’t know you
Poetry
Ontological
March 27, 2019
I am the name behind the names, remembering / my origins at the formation of the world.
AudioPoetry
Auto-Immune
February 27, 2019
I am destined to infuse / survival with meaning, like honey clotting in syringes.
Poetry
Swimming Pool
February 18, 2019
I accept everything. I renounce everything. / I sink into everything, clothed only in a wet beard.
Poetry
The Hang-Up
January 24, 2019
Waiting had also promised to end me,
/ but daily, and starting with the innermost parts.
Poetry
/ˈməT͟Hər/
December 21, 2018
We tend to our roles like we tend to a fire, / poking the coals with the blazing tip of an iron.
Poetry
Blind River
December 13, 2018
We have long ties to sunlight, / equations that always solve for equality.
Poetry
The Weight of the Sun
November 21, 2018
I like being / reminded that we all began in dark and stars
Poetry
Little Mouse
October 18, 2018
I stood still and said: What is this? / Why do you lie here so quietly?
Poetry
The Stone in the River
October 1, 2018
When we rose up from the murky water / we'd scale it like lizards.
Poetry
After Kaddish
September 27, 2018
Skeletons in our minds, it’s a private grief, a private grief, you hear.
Poetry
Identity Theft
August 10, 2018
My eyes and lips and hair and face will rot in the river / And I will be carried away by vultures / To the corporate headquarters of Bank of America
AudioPoetry
Poet Wrestling with the Possibility She’s Living in a Simulation
June 25, 2018
One simulation to another, am I wrong.
AudioPoetry
you’ve always been a border simulator
May 7, 2018
you have trouble saying your name and you say it anyway
AudioPoetry
[My cadastre of flesh]
April 30, 2018
My cadastre of flesh / dissects me right to the bone
AudioPoetry
Edge of the Wild
April 4, 2018
I am so afraid of being troubled and alone at the end of this world
Poetry
We Should Recount Something Says the Patriarch
March 23, 2018
Sometimes what happens is the waves / fling themselves on the beach without spectators
Poetry
To the Littlest Brother
February 16, 2018
listen, the ache of a sister for a brother / isn’t obvious
AudioPoetry
An Iranian Rat Prepares for Space Flight
January 8, 2018
I have no name unless I make / it back alive
AudioPoetry
At Mercier Orchards
December 15, 2017
we believe in ourselves / more than we believe in anything else
AudioPoetry
Where Papi’s Angel Speaks to Me About Love
November 29, 2017
mijo—i know you have seen the night / as an excuse to hold your body like a bottle
AudioPoetry
The last dog in the world
November 15, 2017
What are days? Just him and / the left-over spiders.
AudioPoetry
On a Lamp Post Long Ago
October 11, 2017
in case we have forgotten the word love, we will know its symbol
AudioPoetry
Je Suis Sally
September 27, 2017
"I am black wench, / wench Sally, African Venus, Sarah Hemings"
Poetry
Psalm of the Fire Starter
September 20, 2017
"I fled to oceans, I wandered / and found flesh— / some to eat, some to undress."
AudioPoetry
After Dinner
August 21, 2017
The serrated are only /
for dining, the curved ones for husking /
muscle from the bone
Poetry
Lamentation I
August 14, 2017
Time aches, / horizons wound, light stabs—there’s room for it / all, missy.
AudioPoetry
Black stars fill up black sky—
July 24, 2017
When the opal stone appears, I’ll lean into it. But terror is a runaway train.
Poetry
[to lick the skin of the water with a tongue]
June 26, 2017
how to augur anything / but crooked miracles / anyway
Poetry
King Vultures
June 12, 2017
Here comes the hard part, the Land of the Dead / floating just above my head
Poetry
The Glass Door
May 8, 2017
Somebody guessed just what life was like, / and then made a pill for it.
Poetry
With Love and Love and Rage and Love
April 24, 2017
On the map, great gasps / of land are already gone.
AudioPoetry
The Song of Empty Rooms
March 27, 2017
Your voice is my favorite album, / you left but your bones are still here.
