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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.
 Maleta.
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.
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