first time she sees the numbers
on the arms of the blue-haired
she wonders why?
The girl sweeps
scrubs combs and brushes,
counts money and
at D'Albert Beauty Salon.
does a teenager know of war?
Not a child,
she studies his gentle smileâ€”even in
he is good.
This beautiful soldier, son
his crisp uniform hides the rope burn
he put there.
He, gone at 19; she going on 15
mother packs up her grief,
begins a new life, new
where the girl takes
a job, busy work to
and distract her
from her own grief at exile.
I Saw in New York Today, a Found Poem of Sorts
man on the sidewalk, cutting off skin from his fingers with a
A neat stack of collated boxes, placed on one side,
along Madison Square--
the person inside protected from the oppressive heat of midday
A soaking wet dog relaxing in the shade of a moist
Two wheelies tackling Second Avenue traffic
State Building in a pink sky
The Verranzo, partially obscured,
twinkling in the distance
A very small child in linen dancing
near a sprinkler, in sandals
A very large man whose tattoo
sprouted beneath a forest of hair
rabbi staring in the street
Judith Ortiz Cofer's "Beans: An Apologia for Not Loving to
close for comfort
what indeed, do
have to do with one another?
hombre, always concerned about his belly, what good food you will
bring him, mujer.
La hembra, the female of the
species, always associated with feeding; even her body feeds
Hombre, weighty, substantial word usurps the
vague hembra. She is at service to those who would use
Hembra is not as useful a word as is its
varón--which gives us
a most productive modifier--varonil. Not just manly but
Hambre is female . . . despite the article
declaring it "male”
waiting to be fed with love,
waiting for her mouth, her body to be
the empty space between her ribs, pelvis, the pits of
Hambre is female . . . like