I’m from the cries of families/ sundered at our southern border/ while Lady Liberty faces a filthy sea
Poetry
Shearing Season (and other poems)
When the fleshy clefts healed
in the lambs’ ears, finely edged
with fur, I knew it was time
and grabbed a sheep by the leg.
Molt (and other poems)
I know the reason a snake sheds its skin
know the reason the crab forsakes
its lonely shell on forgotten beaches