Poetry

Poetry |

“My God is Oath, My God is Abundance / Full of Grace / Ghost (Spectre)

“To call a people “black” is to say they can be from anywhere or nowhere. / To call a people “american” is to say that the origin no longer matters. / Growing up in New Jersey, I would say to people: / My dad is Canadian and my mom is Trinidadian.”

Poetry |

“Finding Work” and “The Set-Up”

“His bigotry costs him millions / in sensitivity training for all of us, back in the days / when that was punishment, teaching old- / dogs not to get caught.”

Poetry |

“North Sonoran, Year’s End” and “Man ‘o War”

“Good days, I can imagine / myself like this: // slowly weathered into / something less me, / what sounds like being erased // but is also less ego, less belief …”

Poetry |

“Don’t Do It — We Love You, My Heart”

“Julio De Leon is pedaling across the George Washington Bridge / his trim form, though sixty-one, leaning into the eastbound breeze // as tractor-trailers apply hydraulic brakes and shudder / in between the honking cars …”

Poetry |

“Wings” and “Caryatis”

“Bird bones frame the door of the cottage where girls about to be crushed by stones await the sacrifice of their sour clothes. I wait, too, like someone many lifetimes ago, already dead at the beginning of everything.”

Poetry |

“Say Their Names”

“People suggested she change her name, / but she thought not. No one suggested he change his, / she gently pointed out. At which the audience exploded.”

Poetry |

“Roots”

“I want to make space. / I want to know my place. // I want to have that much / give.”