My teacher said I should not rewrite Dickinson,that we need fly-up, soar-to-skyrising-above-us guides. Wings. She’s wrong. Hope requires muscle,grit, I-will-do, flex of sinewhere. Present. Woke. Able. Stargazing and skywritingwill not move the plow. Push. Lift […]
Madres— women forced to spreadtheir legs, open their mouthsto coyotes in desertsinside shipping containershooked to Mack Trucks,husbands and childrentorn from them—your tired your poor Padres—men in safe housesalong the long routebraving bordersstarved and beatenbadgered and […]
Midnight, the train, the heard past, the rumbling stall of an apartment behind the jukebox, the cattle call of miners, pipefitters, boilermakers naming shots chased with budweisers. The dirty hands, dirty faces. The women beehived […]
