I miss the kind of love they sing about in oldiez songs
but I don't ask for it anymore. My palms are turned down
against gusts taking themselves away. I listen to wild parrots
while I run between sycamores in the park. I walk around
uncomfortable in the jeans and wonder if the holes
are something I've made. I think about some things
so I don't think about other things: pizza, poetry, Neosporin.
I eat my fried eggs out of a bowl shaped like a man's hands.
The thin, gold rings on his fingers are still mine. I have myself
to remind me of love, and that's all. I tie tiny triangles of glass
to string that I wear around my neck, and some say it's pretty.
When my mother doesn't recognize the jewelry adorning me,
hoping, she asks if it's new. And even though I am Mexican,
feel deeply & joke dark, God still owes me a drink for every time
the woman I should be has died. I no longer mean it when
I say please. Sometimes words belong between certain people
And neither one is you. Sometimes people are just lines in a song.
Today, I feel like telling jokes instead of pretending
to write pretty music and I am angry with the word should.
I think about words so I don't think about loss, or all the feathers
left on my porch. I want to open the front door and see
a clean bird waiting for me on the doormat like I'm Snow White
even if it has rusted forks for wings. I once heard
that the world breaks everyone. That afterwards,
many are stronger at the broken places. I wish
a whole woman would wake up inside of me.
Love & Relationships
Music & Sports
A poem where the form, theme, subject, style, or line(s) is inspired by the work another poet.
an expression designed to call something to mind without mentioning it explicitly; an indirect or passing reference
a figure of speech in which words repeat at the beginning of successive clauses, phrases, or sentences
two lines of verse, usually in the same meter and joined by rhyme, that form a unit
a comparison between two unlike things using the words “like” or “as”