More on: Poetry

a dream that repeated: to find the good / you must uproot the pain

Brother Baptiste once asked, How do I fit into my body? Brother Javier survived the plague.

every morning / the choice. How much. / Whether or not to. / And always the same / decision made

My mother used to tell me to talk without using my hands…. People will think you’re something you’re not, she said.

I want to know the names / of those who make reservoirs / of their own bodies.

But, if you didn’t notice, there is the cross: / the cross that includes everything as it / excludes nothing

They are guilt advancing in disguise; / they are the very finest jewels of guilt.

to us / the house / and its broken silhouette returned / partly possessed:

Everyone in the family insists / the bones are ours. Nurses fuss and refuse at first, / / until we threaten a lawyer.

Like you, I’m on a journey, though where I’m going / changes with each moment.