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Life Choicesexpand_more“If you love freedom so much, you shouldn’t think about going back.”
My father would have ended my clandestine career on the spot.
Let’s put a frog in his bed and have him feel it jump all over him.
Youth! Goodness! Joy! Hope! Strange things to bring to a place like this.
The old hen scratches then looks, scratches then looks. My life.
I bled. God didn’t want to hear about it. He said unclean and so it was.
The keys look like Tommy’s teeth once he began to appreciate meth.
Out there, my father captains a boat tour below the Cliffs of Moher
This was his sky, his clouds rucked up over the fields. His country.
“You’re going somewhere now,” he said. “Up to the big smoke.”
Why is the sun such a bad companion to the desert traveler?
Don’t try to find me by spit, by genetic sleuthing, by Are you my?
It was only a matter of time before the damp of loss grew within us like moss.
Why am I always asleep in your poems? Look at me Ben, when am I.
What consequence is a body/a body nonetheless. If the light in me is gone.
One spent the better part of this life writing in the dirt with a stick.
She possessed a quality that made one forget all shortcomings.
Gerard sat in the shadow, watching his son steal about like a thief.
Play hero, sunburned protagonist, awake in our dream.
The sloshed grownups had little to say to me. I loved it that I was alien.
I wish I could tell him he’s not going to hell. It would be so freeing for him.
He tried to regain that moment of grace, but there was no conjuring it.
No matter how much money there is, it can always just drain away.
What I want is a woman who knows all the meanings of indulgence.
When I walked in, the kids applauded. They were like, “The poet’s back!”
Unnatural as a ghost; the thought rose unbidden to his mind.
What a good time we could have if we were happy to be who we are.
What right does an American mutt like me have to depict in fiction the lives of a Salvadoran family?
Brain an inkblot liquor stain until the heroine blinks the coma away.
