Two Poems
Lisa Marie Basile

On Fear

It is July and I am at the

castle in Catalonia. I keep thinking

of the castle in Catalonia. Red and gold

walls. What if I stayed. What if I ate

the meat every day. Could I change.

Could I be no one's daughter.

I come home thinking about my

mother, how she will never see

the real ocean. She has brittle hands

and never knows the time. Five

decades have passed and still

no ocean. She follows any man that moves

words at her. She stays there. Down, doggy.

Down, Momma.

On God

Three men entered the bus outside of Oaxaca. One had the gun, and pointed at me.
I shook open.I shook open until white doves filled the bus.I couldn't stop
thinking about the time I closed the door when an older man looked through.
I was nine, and powerful.I held my breath and waited.I held my breath and waited.