2 Poems
1991 AND WE FLEW FOR DAYS I spilled juice on the plane’s seat, stuck my fingers in the armrest ashtray, had to pee at all the wrong times. We flew for a wedding of relatives I never knew: me in an off-shoulder party dress, throwing petal to path, smile-nodding to no one. My lola wanted [...]
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Shiva for Aunt Ruby
Aunt Ruby usually picks me up from Hebrew school, but today she isn’t here. It has been snowing for two days and this morning I broke the crystal sugar bowl in the kitchen, and Aunt Ruby isn’t here. I wait inside the entryway, pressed against the pale cinder block wall, while the other students file [...]
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Scribble Scholar Was Here
Notes of a Vandal Academic
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2 Poems
Gary's Bop Your bedroom door bolted, Trav took out the dope. Still in cellophane, he pestled it flour-fine with his Zippo and asked, Two or three? You were s’posed to with me. He cut two. Trav spoon-cooked it down. The bubbles white-brown. I bit the tail of my belt, and cinched my arm. Doors click [...]
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2 Poems
anam cara i have the land of green plums in my knapsack, baby names for wild heather growing in a telescopic city like bethlehem where water & fire are sister wives vestal twins & the house i arson(ed) sits with its ashtray mouthed duende here i will meet you unstaunched hypnotic our bodies paradigm(ed) to [...]
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MISI BIUTIKWEEN BOT
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Kinfolk
—souls connecting and bonding, as one poet here would have it— are rooted in place.Are we from the same place? you might think when you meet someone who gives you a familiar sensation. My body is only one place my spirit has been over the course of the universe. *** I call my grandmother to […]
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Welcome to Issue Folk
Welcome to Anthropoid’s Second issue: Folk. In this issue: A plague of beetles, ultimate grand supreme, big sky country, the ultimate flower, #notyourtonto, goldfish obituaries, and a woman grows gills. To us, Folk is a collective of the human landscape; its clans, tribes, kinships, and legacies. But the collective is made up of individuals. We are isolated within […]
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Evergreen
When I was homeless, I ceased to believe in poverty. My headrest a shale of old bones, stone laceworks my boudoir, evergreen wine bottles and smatterings of newspaper my chamber walls. My mind was a trash of elements. A waste, perhaps, of DNA strands as long as a wingspan, but even vipers have it. Then—the [...]
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We Belong To Non-English
She pours the salt on the tomato slice. I am salt and tomato. I am spilling seeds. I am knife. I want to be everything that enters her mouth. “I’m pretty straight.” Slice. If the tomato were a finger, it would be bleeding my signature. Instead, it is black. I cannot eat it. I am [...]
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2 Poems
This Land Every night the jackals come to the prickly undergrowth beneath this porch, pulled open from Mount Carmel like a drawer with an unmatched sock. Their cry is mournful, hopeless, a wolf howl more like weeping. I lean across the rail to see them, but they are not for seeing. Only a gleaming eye, [...]
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All Indians Are Magical
they can tell time by looking at the sun they can hear the buffalo running two hundred miles away even if they live in Chicago or Minneapolis or Farmington they can heal your broken leg with a wey-ya hey-ya chant if there’s no doctor at IHS because the funding for the year ran out they [...]
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