A collection of my poems, both old and new.
Notable Rankings:
1 in #poetsofwattpad (2021-06-01)
1 in #poetryclub (2021-06-01)
1 in #poetrycommunity (2021-06-18)
1 in #slampoetry (2022-04-13)
1 in #wattpadpoets (2022-04-13)
1 in #wattpadpoet (2022-04...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"To the Woman Who Called to Me from the Store on the Corner"
"I love you," you yelled at me
when I was half a block away and silent.
"I love you," you accused
in the three words of English that you knew.
Can you say
"I need you?"
Can you say
"Life is hard,
sometimes. Life is hard and when I look at you,
my life is no easier and when I call out to you
my life is no worse?"
"I love you..."
Can you say that you'll make love
to me?
Not sex. Love.
I could pay you money
and you could 'love' me.
I could buy you a dozen fields of roses
and we could have 'sex'.
I could but I can't and neither
can you.
"I love you," you said to my receding back,
to the base
of my skull...
Can you say
"I do?"
Can you say
"I did?"
Can you say
"I could but I can't
and neither
can
you"?
[first published in The Antigonish Review, Volume 105.]
˗ˏˋ・。☆.・゜✭・. AUTHOR'S NOTES ✫・゜・。.・。. ✭
Another fleeting but vivid memory from my time in Nicaragua... As fish out of water and gringos who did not, could not belong, we all received our share of heckling from that endless sea of faces without names. Sometimes people would shout out the only 3 words of English that they knew. Other times, they hurled harsh-sounding words that they knew we did not yet fully understand. Perhaps, in this case, it was both. Either way, I blushed and put my head down, picking up my pace as I headed down a disheveled side street towards my conversational Spanish class to write a poem.
