Many Fires

five poems

Photo by Yaoqi on Unsplash

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Subject Object


There's a language
that contains

only one word
for apology

but two hundred
for damnation.

When it comes
to speaking

this tongue,
studies have shown

that the publicly
kind

and privately
cruel

are equally
fluent.




Belief


I've known that backyard tree
for twenty-nine years.
Sometimes, I pretend

that it's a church where
the birds are its most
faithful parishioners 

and the occasional racoons
and possums only attend
to appease their ancestors.




Rage

Your hands are ten arsonists
setting fires
whenever you make fists.




Ode to Asparagus 

Green stalk, steamed,
the perfect bite
between the teeth.
Tasting earthy
and sweet. After
dinner, I might
hold you aloft
like a scepter
as I parade through
these city streets.




Marital Bed

Your brown skin and hips
slide across white sheets—
Dear Diane, you are
	the sweetest eclipse.