Handmaid’s TailContinue reading “Handmaid’s Tail”
ChromosomesContinue reading “Chromosomes”
Blazing Hot with Sartre’s Last Note
A prisoner isn’t a man
yawning with teeth painted
by decayed food eaten to live;
a prisoner isn’t a man
seeking the eye of the sun
through age-eaten brick walls;
a prisoner is a man condemned
to the fate of shapes.
I opened suddenly, like a crack
of dawn, golden, molten, running
over the flat desert vista.
* * *
All my shoes are afraid of the sky.
Thunders are meant to be deceived by magpies,
but the stars break the roofs looking for
traces of water in sinks and bathtubs,
their shapes unable to stop the silence
from kissing the walls.
Beneath this opal encirclement,
my interlocutors are not
the sterile insinuations
or the fanatical mysticisms
Lullaby for Thirsty Lawn Furniture
the chairs hunker down
under layers of misuse
and dust. the air shimmies.
Darkness WalksContinue reading “Darkness Walks”
13 ways of using a blackbird
(after reading Wallace Stevens’ poem
“Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”)
the aeroplane passed another universe
on the way to Florida, of