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From Deluge

I bled. God didn’t want to hear about it. He said unclean and so it was.

From End of Empire

I turned—a peculiar triumph—as ruin succumbed to the ruin it birthed.

From “Fall Line”

I want you, you captive, delivered into each other’s territories.

Getting Out

Go Humbly

What right does an American mutt like me have to depict in fiction the lives of a Salvadoran family?

Goat Milk Puttu

From that day on, Sivaprakasam got embroiled in an ungodly mess.

Horse Poem

The horse is beautiful and would rather be doing anything else.

Houseboys

Any white man without a servant was presumed to be in need of help.

How I Became a Banker

When the thugs from the bank showed, up my father laughed.

How I Left a Life of Crime and Came to America

We were aiming for a complete transformation of society.

Hunger of Memory

Hysterical Strength

A camper fighting off a grizzly until someone can shoot it dead.

I Heart Your Dog’s Head

It’s a small deposit, but I’m putting my faith in reincarnation.

I Search for Koreatown

I can only say I am here searching solo for remnants of Seoul Drive

I Want to Know Why

There’s something I saw at the race meeting I can’t figure out.

If America Doesn’t Want You Dead

I shouldn’t have to say why the confederate flag is a symbol of hate.

If the Shoe Fits and Other Poems

What if white men became supremely good at making up for our past?

Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl

We were alone in the world, and we had left dear ties behind us.

Inevitability

He picked up the knife I had there, and said he’d kill me if ever I told.

Innocence and Other Poems

Phaethon thought he could drive the sun but was struck down to earth.

Ipi Ntombi

The sounds of Africa exploded around the white men and women.

Iscariot and Other Poems

Let those shadows sift the spirits of their children from the silt.

It Might Be a Hurricane Year

she was right—hurricane being the name of the feeling, the twist of it.

Jackpot

Don’t start conversations or attract attention. Don’t be suspicious.

Jellyfish Movement of Ghosts

I taste on my tongue a gunshot of synapses warm and light like butter

July, 2008

He says the word robbery and you don’t know if he’s asking or telling.

Justice

Do we hunger after conflict as much as we hunger after justice?

Landscapes with Lester

I made him love me. To feel abandonment—again.

Letters to Bernadette

Remind the children never to use the state as a metric for ethics.

Lipstick Bathroom

The white geometry of caulk between bathroom tiles—I’m held in place.