Villanelle to Pio
Speak to me. Though you find me deaf as a stone,/ help me to find the lonely, bloody son of Ruth,/ who speaks to hearing ears that they are… More
Rehabilitation
No sky. No grass. No trees, No travel. No children. No wife. No man’s best friend. No trust. No suffrage. No income. No autonomy. No power to do good. More
salsa meditation
my hands will smell for days of onions, garlic and jalapeños despite repeated washings after slicing, dicing and mincing with my trusty lid-o-matic and plastic picnic knife essential utensils of a prison… More
End of the Game
End of the GameThe lovers passed through, downcast, disgraced by their untimely rhapsodies. The alleys were left with no murmurs and no sound of footsteps. The soldiers passed by, shattered, weary on scrawny horses, faded rags of ousted… More
It’s Time to Mow the Flowers
It’s Time to Mow the FlowersIt’s time to mow the flowers, don’t procrastinate. Fetch the sickles, come, don’t spare a single tulip in the fields. The meadows are in bloom: who has ever seen such… More