I am all sun worship, Heat and fertility and rain dances, Spirit servant to beats in my hips that leak down, rolling my ankles to Bedouin drums Composed to the rhythm of mama earth and her earthquake steps. My god lives in waves, Of the ocean and heat variety, My god lives in throbs, Of… Continue reading About my religion
Tag: poems
on papa
and all the men my heart has fluttered about,on the space you take up when you’re here,and its imposition when you’re not. for papa who i pray knew nothing thenof the inside of his body, and all its thriving rot, for you who shook the wanderlust into my(your) long leg bones…for you who branded me… Continue reading on papa
On sleep or not sleeping
There is something solid and safe in his frame, And in the early morning when I wake and he does not, The nook in his outstretched arm calls my name. Roll, slide over into sanctum, just some ligament and muscle he’s got. Warm, steady heartbeat, even his breath, a languid afterthought. For all that I… Continue reading On sleep or not sleeping
on stone
my mother thriving,my father now dusty bones,my parents are like my countriesand I am the land between the deserts and the prairies.America and my home Kingdom,they are nothing alike.Like my parents, they are divided by simple things, small ideas,that still keep them worlds apart.my worlds, my parents, both are wrought with ancient passions and dust,nothing… Continue reading on stone
on aging
I fear for my memories of the indian ocean, drying and curling at the edges like the yellowed pages of my favorite book. i fear the helpless sag of the skin around my smile,and, with something to lose, i lie awake marinading in terrorover mental atrocities likewhat to do to accept your mother’s mortality,how to… Continue reading on aging
on aging together
you will love them until you waste themwary and satisfiedthey will wear youthreadbare and misshapen and it will be home
On evolution
I envy the flowers and fungus and trees That have shown more survival savvy than me: As Homo sapiens took off running To lose and gather and roam, Little seeds out of just some dumb dirt Made food and rest and a home. My blood is restless and I wander While oaks in my yard… Continue reading On evolution
On scarring
The ones on my arms from Catching corners and cat claws, They’ve faded and blended and I I do not remember the stories behind them. I look at your letters some days and hope for the same mercy there
On weekdays
why does it feel so good to dwell and wallow,and why do all the pretty songs make me sad-worthless questions that I use to deflectlike a windbreakerthe gusty surprise of my empty yard, there is just wood to shield my walls from this windy dayand the subsequent pressure of staying uprighthas all my sturdy weeds… Continue reading On weekdays
On smog
If I could have any color I found to rouge my cheekbones with, I’d streak the peachy rose of Calcutta’s twilight smog across my apples, In place of the exhaust and dust catching to the salty dewborne of an India afternoon sun.The clouds tinted here at sundownare more than a fat little cherub-pink;they glow with… Continue reading On smog
Garbanzo Bae 