What was I dreaming   about?
A cabinet   full   of sad secrets    must
Have been      before you woke   me up
Screaming,  frenzied    because
Of a big   flea you found    at the corner
Of your bed      where is mama?   I asked
You were   shaking    and I was too   but
You    were scared   about the  flea   and
Whether   it had gotten   so fat   because
It was   feeding   on you  
All this time    and I found
Mom on the couch, covered up in thick
Blankets     i was shaking too
As I saw her   asleep     cause
She never sleeps.

When you saw me across the river,
You fondled the leaves of your belt
You tasted the blood from your chapped lip,
Curious to see if my dress was soft enough to rip
Or if your eyes could make me melt.

When you saw me across the river,
You begged for things I could not give.
So you took my body instead,
Asked for it to split-open and spread
As you commanded it to die and then live.

When you came to me across the river,
You tapped my forehead three times,
Sputtered your spells into my ears.
No sweeter sounds would I ever hear,
As you covered me in lavender and thyme.

When you came to me across the river,
My hunger for the wood was already there,
I thirsted for the waters that ran beneath us.
All I had thought I wanted was superfluous,
As above me you pounded and zestfully stared.

When you were finished with me in the river,
I was tempted to ask for your name,
Only to learn that here roamed many a wood-devil,
Those who keep the wild lands fruitful and leveled,
And turn people like you and I untame.

Cooking side  by   side    I play music to
somehow        tell you all things   I cannot say
because   you won’t believe me       when I say

I want this to work  

Last night   you said  I wasn’t quite THERE
when you    pounded inside    you said your wrist never
hurt so much  from *******
all my head   thought   was     ****, is my body
that   hard to  *** to

I could understand how  you found it   upsetting
that   I was so   self-conscious    that I couldn’t even
see how you might like me
so you chose   to hurt me like I had hurt you

as I narrate your every move----cutting the tomatoes, the onions,
cracking the eggs      you signal the flaws within all my
descriptions          and  without mercy, you say

I think   I need to get myself    a new narrator

thank  you for saying    hello  and
not expecting  anything else from me

How exactly  it happened
not so sure   but before you knew it
I had blown up like a blow fish
and round like a plum, i got red
at the truth
in your remarks

I wonder
what you do in those retreats,
those wanderings into the woods.
What do you accomplish?
What do you fulfill?
Do you hunger perhaps, for the taste of
luxury and collapse?

And I can see you,
bow and arrow on your shoulders,
waiting for the deer.
And what is it that you do, coming back
sweaty and nervous, giddy and wanting,
lusting.
Long-haired, skinny man, dark eyes
and pale-skinned-
you come home    wet.
And I wonder if I can still love you
after all the women
who have followed your steps,
eaten from your mouth, kissed it,
loved you.

You come back hot, red veins
like demons in your eyes. Dark shadows
thirst for what you’ve already
tasted.
Are you some-type of prophet?
Do you think yourself a God, a prince?
Surely no God eats with his fingers.

But do tell me instead that I am a queen,
yours to take and ravish and hold.

And fall from your mountain,
and come down to earth.
For prophets love all women,
and I desire you
for only myself.

when i first saw him in my grandmother’s house in Torices, I cried with joy
never had I felt such love and adoration for a creature   so little   and innocent
so full of hope   and dreams   all he dreamt   was of loving us    and defending us
against dragons   and imaginary    monsters    the king of the house   how ordinary
it is   the love   a dog gives to its     owner         and yet  i looked upon him
with such   wonder     he fought      all fights   as if they were his last
i still see    his   brown eyes   and white against    dark walls
the bark     that broke  silences     and soothed    wounds  and pains
the touch   of a  wild  thing     tamed
how   we walked   we walked    we walked   and when he was young
he ran  like     water      
my little    thing      what do i call you?
you saw me    grow  up    grandpa   died   and then
grandma    died too      you met the boy of my dreams  and
made sure he would    not    break my heart
you loved    my worst   parts      loved my father   despite
his  anger    loved my mother     despite her faults
when you died,    I cried like the time I had first seen you
my little thing       close to me always
what a pair  we made   here      walking  in sync   just right
the sun shone  for us    on Thursday mornings     mom and dad
giving you a piece of your favorite treat
my little thing     how ordinary   it all is

I doubt  now    how
Funny   how sometimes  i feel
So sure   of your emotions
And so quickly  i forget    if you
Ever did love me     as if love
Is something    so fickle    it makes no sense
Should love not   be honest   and real
And solid like a stone    but why does it feel
As if i never   held it    like water   it has always
Felt so fleeting    or fragile    
It may have   been my parents     the abrupt
Changes   in their   words and moods    ive
Always felt    like i didn’t  know     anything
Or what was happening      what happened?  And
Waking up in the morning    to music  on my birthday
But   other days to screams    and   nervous  pleas
To help my mother    who was diabetic   and   dying
And now    you and I    and you, so far away   I
Don’t know how   to deal with it    and I get
Scared at   myself    and I get   scared  of you, does
That make sense    scared   of  
What     we do     with ourselves

i tend to forget easier   now   if what we have is authentic,
so many things happening in our lives    school, work   we are
so afraid of our futures    what does it hold for us?
does music reflect us?     when I say    hey, I heard this song and it
reminds me of you            do you care  
I think    we are alone   now
the    way you hold me   is holy
flightless bird    find me    jealous   weeping

My sister is the keeper of nice things  some
cheap  and others   expensive
like Pandora bracelets and quality hair products
for her curls  and she likes  fine dining
and also Entenmann's pound cake,  just flour, butter, and
high fructose corn syrup

My sister is the keeper of nice things, that smell good
like the soaps she uses, the conditioners and body wash
from Marshalls (the good stuff) and those yellow Vitamin Waters
from 7Eleven and the Cheetos.

My sister, she is the keeper of nice things, like
fresh laundry, and comfy sweaters  and hot chocolate
on winter days  and laughter after school,
She is the keeper of nice things, colored socks and
forbidden pastries, creamy fillings and boy talk,
inside jokes and meaningful music

My sister, she is the keeper of nice things,
like books by Jane Austen and Gabriel Garcia Marquez,
like rantings on a rainy day and a million other things
I can’t think of.

My sister-she is the keeper of nice things, that smell good
some cheap, others expensive…

Where did we go, when it all came down
Some of us ran into the ocean   became mermaids
And some climbed higher and higher    into the sun
Where did we go   where’d we run away   I thought
I had it all under control   it was not the better plan though
Some ran    into a swamp   where gators  swam   and swayed
Did they sink? Or were they eaten? Or did some godly-thing occur  when
They found a kingdom   below

I look down at my dog   we both look ahead into the city
And i ask him: where did we go    we did not know   that
We’d take different paths    and i ran into the ocean
Because a wise man told me the salt   would heal
My wounds

The nonsense remarks our fathers tell us, for example:
We are all beautiful inside and we must get a
good education. Well, for the most part, they are right.
But my father also    mocks   the sound of
my   tears   and    when I
eat      my mother  strikes my hand  as I
grab for   a piece of naan   or something
like, you can imagine.    I feel weak at
times despite the   calories,
like a shriveled berry.
Sometimes,  I call a boy
when my eyes have dried  so as to not disrupt
a balance. I am sure he may feel
lonely at times, but he runs and
absorbs himself in his sciences
and religious texts.
Me?      I am a rat girl who digs
old things from their hideouts in my room.    My old
stories and fantasies
of a prince who reads my hidden letters,
finds them first actually,
instead of my brown hand          pulling          his ear          toward
me.  Me, saying softly:
look
inside
here.

If I tell you how much I weigh,  
the weight of my mind
the mass   of my body    and the burden
of my histories
or make you see    instead  
the weight of yours  
what will become of our children?
Will they  hold   all the things we hate
about ourselves most  
or will they be    sacred  

as all children
should be?

You want to separate yourself from me sometimes   but
my side isn’t willing to let go

The good   est     girl    
Sometimes    the smartest   and
I was taught to  be ambitious   and
Although    he wanted us to be tough, somehow
We ended   up weaker than    we ever
Thought we’d be      so brittle     we cry
When strangers    get angry at us    like
When    we went to Atlantic City
And decided to sit in different seats     and the
Whole bus     yelled   and inside, well
I knew they were right       about
Us being wrong
I was   my father’s daughter     before
I even knew     who I was

my old friend   Kev gave me a call
and strange to believe   that I think it was a mistake
a ****-dial    made at 7pm     for old time’s sake

She wasn’t the wolf
under the bed or the one
who huffed the three houses
down when the pigs were
asleep. She wasn’t the one
who laid her head down
on that pillow while they
hollered words of
comfort and love. She was the
one who slept quietly
as he touched her feet and
touched her legs
and perhaps
kept her warm
when the drink dizzied
her up and her lips were
numb. I heard her.
And he said he loved her.
And I thought of her feet
very small with five toes
each and I thought
of her breath
her huff caressing
a strand of hair on
her forehead. That soft
inhalation as she felt his
hands between
her toes.

I told my good friend
That New York City    is like
A jungle      an acquired taste   we
Were in a car     visiting foster parents
Who were    mostly   Dominican   mostly
Old women   too     and I looked down
At my phone     sent you a picture
Of myself        and waited   for
A response
If you’d ever think   i was the
Prettiest girl   in the world

Slowly   it  embraces me
Slowly   it  becomes   the object
that   holds  my weakness   and
chews   it  

Soon     it
will regurgitate   greatness

I may have been a doll
when I had tiny shoulders and
you could see the bones of my neck.
And perhaps you too, thought
yourself a sort of extra ordinary
creature who could change
my life. And it was for this
reason that I fell from the shelf
and hit my porcelain head on
the floor and saw my
little hand point towards you.
And I said, “Take me.”
And you said, “How?”
And then with my hand,
I took your hand, and
asked you to wrap your
fingers around my neck.

you resemble the boys of my past     how once
I wanted   a broken   boy to find me in a well
and lure me   out with    his wild   eyes     sharp nose
blond  hairs        you       talk    mad     and quick
like you’re     high   on something   strong
and   I can’t keep up
I just listen     wanna please you     wanna be   worthy   of
something   confident    like   you
so I     just      listen        
let myself       fall for you

after each   tough event,   you two would sit Kathy
and I down    either in early mornings   or late nights   and say:
we’ve only got  each other    we can’t trust the world
or something alluding to how alone we were here in New York,
no friends, no family     hell, no neighbors
and   sometimes, mom would use her illness to get back at you for cheating
or for getting home late from work    but little did she know
you’d smack her head side to side    when her blood sugar
dropped  and dropped   and dropped   til she was unconscious
and Kathy and I gained so much freakin weight    we had no idea how
to love ourselves     when I got my first job  all I wanted
was    to go out to gay bars and get drunk
I learned from the best     to get angry      dad would break apart
all the cabinets   when he couldn’t deal   with all the stuff   going
around and around   and around
and mom     didn’t know   how to love herself   enough  to teach us
and we still      don’t know

Many things   and maybe
Im always   just going in circles,
Really not    moving forward
But then again, does it matter?

my greatness is never capitalized, never
existing or full, happy never
there are things i swallow and don’t
chew and walk up and down
without thinking   who are you man
to request a kiss or a handshake
from my prune-like soul   laugh
nicely with a yellow suit on your
shoulder   achieve greatness
for me and
tell me
a story of triumph
or of bruised oranges you liked to eat
before men fell from grace   I’ll listen
here
are you good and is it bad to smile
and have my heart beat fast when
you call me a princess
i told you it was easy
i was always easy
stupid and fickle and wanting and lost
and asking and talking with you of
fishes and the future
greatness is never capitalized  it does not exist
in love
or lust or any other element of the body and spirit
neither does it exist
in these words

Write of me,
dark eyes and *****
face with drying pink tears,
red with blood,
from dehydration.
Speak to me,
and when your mouth
touches mine,
spit sugar
down my throat.
Walk through brambles,
stupid prince who
will get the beauty
despite
big feet and long
hair.
Do you know
the feeling,
when you’re in too
deep?
Sweet story of your heart,
bitter when it starts;
I’m curious, sad maybe,
write of me. Ellis is not a name.
I am not Ellis.
I do not conquer
hearts of wolves.
Write of me,
prince,
ignorant however,
with sugar-fleshed
cheeks.
Sing.
Sing.

In my sleep you came again as you often do,
and you    stared  into me  begging for an answer
I still take your  breath away, don’t I      you asked
and all I could say   breathless  
no Louis,     you don’t

Panamanian myth woman-was it true?
They left you hanging there just for the view?
And you kissed an imp for the sake of emotion,
But, he cursed you instead with his peoples’ potions,
Built you a rose-bed with a hole so you’d fall through?

Panamanian myth woman-tell me things as you recall,
Did he sing you to sleep and turn you into a doll?
Were you bleeding strong when they bit you to bits?
Did you ever suspect his love was counterfeit,
Or did your faith die with their psalms and alcohol?

Panamanian myth woman-from where did you rise?
They said from the West, where a cat gave you its eyes,
And when the men first pinched your cheeks,
You scratched and gave the sharpest shriek,
So loud, even the moon was traumatized.

Panamanian myth woman-did it hurt?
Their hands yanking at the seams of your skirt?
The way they fooled you was as old as mankind,
A simple trick of the heart and mind,
In the end, you crawled for hours in the dirt.

Panamanian myth woman-what did you take?
For you left the land barren and full of snakes.
And all their men still curse your story,
Of how they maimed your status and glory,
Your body, suspended at their village gate.

Panamanian myth woman-is that true?
They left you hanging there just for the view?
But others say you flew on West,
And became the muse for a hero’s quest,
And he built you a tower nothing could break through.

Sometimes    it’s just easier to dim  the silence
with conversations from fictional    heroes, villains,   normal
people   so unlike us

My existence is a joke    to those who see me
I am not  woman  enough  to harbor love poems
from those who walk past me    or to have my mother
gloat to church acquaintances   about my beauty  my
travels   my  incredible abilities   or  my outstanding schooling
I have formed myself  in the image of     a snake   down to
the very texture of my skin
How I do desire to be all the things   I tell you, for you’ve
fallen in love   with all the lies I’ve told-how I am strong-willed,
confident, and an all around interesting person
Even worse, I’ve led you to believe that I can surpass
the faults of my past and the pain of my childhood as if
I am a phoenix  rising from ashes   but
I am not a bird   I am human
My father   wanted a son  and even my stocky build
Doesn’t  allow for his mind to see me as such  although
My mother’s best insults insinuate my diet
Resembles that of a man
And where does the mind go when it doesn’t know
what is wrong   or right  
or harsh or kind?  I inherited the sadness of their
Hearts, and no longer am I sure if I can  break away
From it all

Ear   muffs on       you always
said   that      it all goes through one   ear
and comes out    the other     well, ma
sorry    to say it might be true
you       stare at me  as I finish  my french fries
why do you look on like that?     have I hurt you?
as fat  as I may  be    I’ve got more soul   than
you ever  did      you wish to be loved by your mother
and sisters          loved unconditionally     so much
that you can’t even    give me that

thick   my arms are   as I place them on the counter top,
smacking   hard   as you cry   telling me how my body
doesn’t deserve      to be loved    

Mother, I’ve found  solace   in being a wolf
natural    misunderstood    hungry  and         beautiful

I was walking up  and you were
Coming down    from Snake hill  on a late
Saturday  night  and all I kept wondering was
How   could   i get you   to touch me

I almost forget her name,
the one who sent you the picture of her
pink ****  who maybe, in a moment of angst,
wanted to feel wanted.

I mean, I get it.

Seems fitting   like a good thing
to have you in a   poem   forever  the kids
that weren’t mine   or me   no matter how
much I wanted   us to  feel   like family

Seems fitting   to dream P.  up a star
playing  for a big  soccer league  on a field
surrounded by admirers  for his smile, his wit
his laughter    

And would he  remember me   the Elsa girl
who watched funny animals  with him so he
would smile, left behind from  a trip    one of the
so very few the kids   here ever get

and you   what to even write? the swings  
the ocean   the waves of your spirit    the strength, dare I say
that made you  up from scratch    on dark days
the dreams that kept you up, and up, and up

and just like a shudder    you both came and left
leaving  your steps in the hallways   of here
leaving your faces embedded in my    heart
taking with  you  all the good things  I wanted you to take

all good things   like the dreams
of success, of power, of happiness, of love, of truth, and redemption

Woo-wah Hur-rah   hey Zach,

Is this thing   funny or not?

It’s mid-March already
and I’m still sad and fat  but hey,
I’ve got a cat  

all slick black  with one white spot

Woo-wah Hur-rah   hey Zach?

Bet you saw  (well did you?)
its   street-smart    jaw   ******
a New York City pigeon’s   *****-*** wing    

oh man,

that coil sling cat jumped forward    I screamed
as he clung to his prized catch

my cat, it swings and wrings the things that fly all around our terrace

Holy Mackerel,  did you see that?
almost gave me the shiver to see him jump so high,
that little cat  testing death  

for a taste of  pigeon  pie  (or fries)
whichever suits his fancy

Hey Zach, catch  that-
there’s a small cat on the  2nd floor
waiting for a Ramsey Gordon worthy dish,
Doors and windows can’t hole him in,

And I fear  it’s a meal he might   literally   fall for.

Hur-rah, fupa? Or maybe something less…you know.
My cat    lunged like a living sling-shot  
almost over the railing
Pigeon-pied eyed, without a thought

****, testing death

Hey, Zach?
Isn’t that funny?

i walked 16 miles with you for Pokemon Go,
even though I knew I didn’t want to, or at least,
I’d have rather done something else

like walk romantically near a lake,
have a coffee at a corner,
eat expensive chocolates at a museum
go to the movies
kiss uncontrollably

so when we made the 14th mile, I could resist no longer
the anger
the urge to fight any woman   like me   craving your attention

and so I smacked my cheek, hoped someone took a picture

and called it a day