You read about antiquity, believing it is far removed from you. When did those ancients begin to be ancient? When did the world of old end and swallow them? As you walk out your door with your children, the sidewalk is public. You step onto the park and head for the playground to let them play, and the playground is public, and so is this entire park, and so are the bathrooms and the basketball courts, public like the libraries. And just as your day winds down, you open up your phone without realizing it's a new age—your phone is a public space, too. The ancients of greece told that Medusa's blood gaves birth to Pegasus. Now, the devices of constituents surveil Pegusus into birth. When did the world of privacy end, is it in the process of swallowing us up or is it still digesting us all?

it is wild this breeze
                that leaves me       half-tossed
              on the coast
  of my hometown
today it is the clear,    sharpened
chirp
   of a
     bird
       that
        sobers          
           me to
              the world      somedays
                 it's a smile
                    hoisted by
                      a edges
                       of stranger
                        lips
                       other
                      days
                      a boundless
                    certainty
                   of being  
                  I find
               in the               confidence
          of round pebbles
next to rough granite

Dear language you hold everything in the  long expanse of your eternal unfurlment  like the cosmos always expanding

We see constellations we have named
being  pulled further apart  
How could the space among planets  feel like the space between us

we sit and look out at your star
the brightest point is still love

It is 11:00 pm and a flock of quacking ducks  break the silence of the night slicing with the tips of their wings the sky

I will give you a bowl with your favorite grilled vegetables, grains, and legumes


I will grow so comfortable that I will take a  sting bean off your plate and replace it with the sun-dried tomato you like

To share your life is to share your bowl skillfully for the purpose of common joy
and nourishment

long live the birds that migrate
and the people who follow

long live the black bears that adopt
the orphan cubs

long live the grey wolves that repopulate
north of Los Angeles

long live the human kin that stand
next to each other

to protest tyrants, oligarchs, and kings

Friend’s home and laughter/smelling the skin of a passion fruit/ her brother grew/ /coffee beans from El Salvador/we giggle and drink late night coffee


My mother‘s home under foliage/ wind carrying guava leaves / this hour murmurs/ the old earthenware from our people/before they told their names


My home with a desk facing the window/ the books eating ledges/ my dreams are  wolves that cross the desert / silver are the steps of the moon/ still I walk into thirty-two in the green gown