580 Poetry entries in Mag: Articles
It was a November of bitter rain and snow blackened by use
we filed the dead leaves by size to ease the task of the forest that was absent for reasons known only to itself The parents had left with the door We mistook puddles for creeks pebbles…...
God, the mother claimed, is behind every tree in the forest
his right shoulder lower than his left heavy with rocky snowfalls from such endurance It’s his motionless breath that fissures our walls in the night when one winter hands power over…...
When did their language mingle with ours
so my brother spoke the words of the arbutus so the mother thickened her sauces with the ash tree’s black resin The female branches made off with the laundry on our lines the young shoots…...
Dead
the mother looked like the linden tree in the square like the wood of the table on which she wrote our faces like the log that didn’t sweat or complain about the smoke dead she began to avoid us…...
As night became talkative
we were lent a window on a fragment of the world We we re the house and the road that led to the house The mother moved the door each time a train went by and at each procession toward the…...
Her apron drawn on her skin
the mother sent us out in the street naked Walnut husks served us for ink Fences we’d jumped were the pages we leafed through Euphoria in the evening when she multiplied her arms two to embrace us…...
How to find the mother when her face disappeared behind the hills
How to find the mother when her face disappeared behind the hills leaving us a body without contours two packets of cold for the armpits white grass for the pubis Gone off with her friend the fire…...
The Eagle
I only learn to be content. —Shogun Tokugawa For Brisa Tinoco and those who have emailed asking if it’s true an old eagle sits alone on the mountaintop, …...
Sketch in October
The tugboat is freckled with rust. What is it doing so far inland? It’s a heavy burnt-out lamp, tipped over in the cold. But the trees still carry colors – wild signals to the other shore as…...
There is No Theorem (A Regguetón)
There is no theorem just the combination 10,000 years of going with digressions: I write regguetones, forget the variation. There is no theorem from the mist itself the primates descend in search of phonemes…...
Self-Portrait
At one and a half I rolled up the stairs to the second floor. At six I almost drowned in a pool. At seven a current swept me down a river. They hit me with a stick, with a rifle-butt, with a two-by-four.…...
The Crane
Aguardiente comes cheap, meat comes dear (somewhat drunk he tap dances over the wet cobblestones, scoring importance from the conjectured case of fractured bone). “Young man, you have to stay thin,…...
Deus ex Machina
Throw the dice, Lord, your turn has come and it is winter. The trident is cornered, the mountains covered with a skin of ash. Lord, behold light’s song here, your due, in the stillness of the sea…...
From the Grave of My Grave
from the grave of my grave a hollow-now open advancing my love, her stairs her name, her signs advancing the same. with my brother the vine and its roots lift here and there. stalker-yesterday pretends…...
Women’s Fantasies
For Susanne Rinne It pleases me to straddle a horse and ride like women do in the frescoes of Pompeii…...
Invention of the Day
certainty of thursday in flesh. solitude. dry bottle. slow drizzle. brief premonition of wearing down. of earned absences. thursday’s tone in each climate, in each city alike. because time was born…...
Bird’s Nest
Luminous missionaries our sexual bodies perfect as a bird's nest carnivorous, incomparable. The bodies of virgins hold all the dreams the honeyed bodies of whores hold all the men The bodies…...
lithograph
marie curie and edvard munch lived in paris at around the same time munch was interested in new discoveries and went to visit the curies’ research laboratory on rue lhomond in the fifth arrondissement…...
solstice
when your eyes pause on the ball that hangs on the third branch from a star you remember why it got dark and why it is getting light again the earth (like the heart) leans back in its seat and like that…...
Patriotic Poem
The cold makes me a lair from fear places a pillow of downy drift under my head a blanket of snow to swaddle me in I’d lay my ear to the cracking of the ice in the hope of hearing it retreat if I…...
