So much is born out of ugliness.
My Korean-born son, who wore a pink-and-blue
hanbok on his first birthday in Flagstaff,
whose birth mother couldn’t take care of him,
my wife and I forcing ourselves to make love
while waiting for him to get here,
the bull elk I stumbled upon in a meadow,
half its antler broken off, grazing,
my blind Chihuahua that pulls on the leash
and snaps at bigger dogs.
