accusing me of my life
with her extra finger
whirling in a gyre of rage
at what my days had come to.
what,
i pleaded with her, could i do,
oh what could i have done?
and she twisted her wild hair
and sparked her wild eyes
and screamed as long as
i could hear her
This. This. This.
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…do not send me out
Sonia Sanchezbrothers,this big womancarries much sweetnessin the folds of her flesh.her hairis white with wonderful.she isrounder than the moonand far more faithful.brothers,who will hold her,who will find her beautifulif you do not?
and the gulf enters the sea and so forth,
all of them carrying yesterdayforever on their white tipped backs,all of them dragging forward tomorrow.it is the great circulationof the earth’s body, like the bloodof the gods, this river in which the pastis always flowing. every wateris the same water coming round.everyday someone is standing on the edgeof this river, staring into time,whispering mistakenly:only here….
listen children
you have for keepingalwayskeep it all wayswe have never hated blacklistenwe have been ashamedhopeless tired madbut alwaysall wayswe loved uswe have always loved each otherchildren all wayspass it on
you are the one
Come with your rodthat twistsand is a serpent.i am the bush.i am burningi am not consumed.
she
is it any wonderi hunger to tunnel backinside desperateto reconnect the rib and clayand to be whole againsome need is in mestruggling to roar through mymouth into a namethis creation is so fiercei would rather have been born
i wish them cramps.
and the last tampon.I wish them no 7-11.i wish them one week earlyand wearing a white skirt.i wish them one week late.later i wish them hot flashesand clots like youwouldn’t believe. let theflashes come when theymeet someone special.let the clots comewhen they want to.let them think they have acceptedarrogance in the universe,then bring them to…