Two Poems

Being Willing to Push Our Throat Against the Knife

Even if we live in times that urge us to survive, when every bone
and every muscle in our body accepts to let the Saber-tooth tiger
devour the oldest member of our clan.

Even if what we'll sacrifice in times of darkness, becomes a wound
that we will carry on, unhealed, much longer than the darkness,
a boy fell from the jungle gym

and we must hold him tightly, tell him it's alright. Even though
the predators are not done roaming, even though he'll fall again.
let you and I promise we will dare the knife.

 

Faint Signals

Tragedies begin by humming
way before countries are crow-pecked

by ruthless governments,
lustful to devour their citizens.

Disgrace begins with sounds
only dogs hear, and few voters noticed, and

I know that I have a reputation for dwelling
on the past, but sometimes the scent of lemons

from a tree I grew up climbing
is the only balm I've found.

So I return to my abuela's garden to seek refuge,
as you may to the embassy of a country

you never knew existed. The signals are
always faint —my grandmother's fingers trembling

when she peeled grapes, her neighbor burning
leaves that crepitate louder than our own,

my grandfather's radio always on, when we visited,
for lunch, all of us chewing as quietly as we could.