Actually, it was sweet and heavy with juice
and we passed it back and forth, a river
of nectar running down her chin and mine

my dream was to move to france
and become a warrior for the lord cuz
I was poor , confused and wasn’t sure my dad loved me

on the chair shining wet from the rain
still hung a black piece of laundry.

between the wardrobe and laundry rack
someone is ironing feathers and planets

Bedecked with scapulars,
heavy with huge crosses
and crying out abroad,

The bananas in the basket
on top of the refrigerator
give me pleasure

On a sunny morning a somebody discovers an official letter in his dwelling: it is lying on the breakfast table next to the cup. It is uncertain how it got there. Scarcely opened, it pounces on the reader with a demand:

Bend and ripple in the heat waves,
Stippled streaks of skin cooked
Raw, blushing rose.

Squibs of passion … these are all
My marshaled senses can recall.

I have stacked and restacked the hay bales
now that the horse isn’t here
to kick them over and over.