National Poetry Month

The / hibiscus out my window now blooms  the bright / tongue & lips of the Rolling Stones  car-freshener / hanging from the rearview mirror  of my tío’s / Chevy.

And the numbers—the numbers / I see every morning—not birds / but people! people!—

I am listening to the gone / I am listening to the going / even when not / speaking or singing 

Our table / more unearthed / than built by an ox / of an earthy man // that speaks in a dialect

Have you dressed for the mirror today Have you draped the darkening glass in gauze

I never thought I’d live to see / us out of the house, on our own.

No matter how long, / I have more of myself to lose. 

I did this. Took my own photo, / painted over my eyes, listened / closer.

Listen—the owl again in the branches above us / Giving up his position despite the war.

If someone says something ugly / we don’t have to say it too. We say No.