I thought it was the neighbor’s cat back

to clean the clock of the fledgling robins low

in their nest stuck in the dense hedge by the house

but what came was much stranger, a liquidity

moving all muscle and bristle. A groundhog

slippery and waddle thieving my tomatoes still

green in the morning’s shade. I watched her

munch and stand on her haunches taking such

pleasure in the watery bites. Why am I not allowed

delight? A stranger writes to request my thoughts

on suffering. Barbed wire pulled out of the mouth,

as if demanding that I kneel to the trap of coiled

spikes used in warfare and fencing. Instead,

I watch the groundhog closer and a sound escapes

me, a small spasm of joy I did not imagine

when I woke. She is a funny creature and earnest,

and she is doing what she can to survive.

^{after Idra Novey}

On a dirt road

On a drive to el campo

You found a batey

I cut the cane 

We sucked on a stalk

You gave me your arms 

I swam in the river

We locked the door 

Then the lights went out 

And the radio played 

You fingered the pesos 

I walked to the beach

We fried the fish 

You ate the mango  

I jumped in the water

We bought the flowers

Then the migrants came

And you bartered for more 

Then the sirens blared

And they were carried away

But we didn’t stop them 

Then the ocean swept

And the palm trees sagged

They were foreigners

We were foreigners  

And we lived there

The Bud Light crystallizing in the freezer

Hides high above a child’s reach

The Uncles table sits in the backyard of my mother’s house parties

The beer and barbecue footnote their good time

I go to greet them like daughter, like niece, like good girl,

They say. Like grown woman now, they say.

At what age did uncles stop seeing me as a little girl

Since when did they dress up my growth with their pick-up lines?

Each word sharpening a knife of bedside manner

Each nervous laugh covering up the names of women who don’t stay

Oh you’re a teacher now? They repeat with bedroom eyes

Teach me, they say. To my classroom, they say, I want to come.

The pork belly on the table I used to draw on as a kid

Curls in the cold air, sausage cackling char on the grill

Flatlining my red lips I paint for myself

My voice a fire extinguisher

Against all the family men who pretend family means

Things I can get away with

A myth of fragility trapping too many girls

Forced to call mercy

Each beer sip    a squeal silenced

Each man still a swine on the spit

Nay, do not blush! I only heard

   You had a mind to marry;

I thought I’d speak a friendly word,

   So just one moment tarry.

Wed not a man whose merit lies

   In things of outward show,

In raven hair or flashing eyes,

   That please your fancy so.

But marry one who’s good and kind,

   And free from all pretence;

Who, if without a gifted mine,

   At least has common sense.

You who pass coldly by when the police rush upon us,

When they wrench away our banners,

(Beautiful banners whose colors cry a demand for liberty)

You who criticize or condemn

(Declaring you “believe in suffrage,

Worked for it in your state, and your mother

knew Susan B. Anthony”)

Can you think in terms of a nation?

Could you die, (or face ridicule) for your belief?

For the freedom of women, for your freedom,

we are fighting; 

For your safety we face danger, bear torture;

For your honor endure untellable insult.

To win democracy for you we defend the banners of democracy

Till our banners and our bodies

Are flung together on the pavement,

Waiting at the gates of government,

We have made of our weariness a symbol

Of women’s long wait for justice.

We have borne the hunger and hardship of prison,

To open people’s eyes

To men’s determination to imprison the power of women.

You women who pass coldly by,

Do you imagine your freedom is coming

As a summer wind blows over fields?

Slowly it has advanced by a sixty-years’ war,

(Those who have fought in it have not forgotten)


And that war is not won.

Strongly entrenched, the foe sits plotting.

Close to his lines our banners fly,

Signalling where to direct the fire,

Greater forces are needed, reserves and recruits.

Are you for winning or for waiting,

Women who watch the banners go down?

Women who say, “Suffrage is coming,”

While suffrage goes by you into Prussia?

Case to be content with applauding speeches, and praising politicians.

Patience is shameful.

Awake, rise, and act.