MIGUEL BARRETTO GARCÍA
Second
Here on the porch, I let the black
cat rub its soft body on my leg
Weekly poems, selected by the editors. Featuring new work as well as poems from our rich archives.
Here on the porch, I let the black
cat rub its soft body on my leg
Her poems have appeared in The New Quarterly, Contemporary Verse 2, Arc, Grain, PRISM,
For two years, all I did was climb a mountain
I made a potion from the visiting plague
I saw through the evening
a purple light.
An hourglass tipped on its side, crimson sand
No. We don’t want you to breathe in–then out.
papa got his first man
the season arthritis twisted
his fingers at the knuckle
First I find your hip & then
the canopy opens above me
My Mama had the gift of hand sewing