My Root is
a vegetation of tasteless
greed
made edible for arid mouths

My heart quake at transports of migrants as the arteries transport the hapless to the shores of Europe; I gape at the veins as they telepath the poor births of…More

Friend, you say, and I remember Mississippi,
that city shaped like a gondola. I remember

writing about boats carved like the elbows

how to find god sunday. in the scabs on mother’s knees. where she plants mourning that sprouts in the wrinkles of her skin. bridges. fragile chinas learning to paint colours.…More

Mother is pregnant with a sixth child and gives birth to a girl again.
Father drinks himself blank in the backyard,

Imagine an air filled blue balloon,
chased by a little girl
reciting rhymes in glee