WHAT IS A COUNTRY TO A UNIVERSE?

WHAT IS A COUNTRY TO A UNIVERSE?

in the back of a small 1-story house
i am a curly black haired baby
planted in a white netted hammock
between a Weeping Banyan
n a Canary Island Palm
Tio Luis n the yard workers
of Garcia Landscape Services
park their pickup trucks in the driveway
push lawn mowers thru the garden
of dappled light around me
a rooster crows from a neighbor’s backyard
pinche gallo, Abuelo spits, looks quick
to see if i wake from the noise
of Spring, my eyes flutter white
sheets on the clothesline, nopales stretch
skywild along the back fence
inside, Abuela practices English
fills pages of a composition notebook
w/ the twisted hammock
of her translated cursive

Abuelo

stakes

my

brown

      butter

limbs

    i take my first steps      across     the field

    córrele Olivia

  i stumble toward   the video camera’s   open eye

root my feet   in the rough grass

              one step

                two step 

            threefour

fivesix

  ven mija, ven acá

my piernitas daffodil
a wobbled orbit
around Abuelo
i curse the rooster
pinche gallo
my chirp uncurtains
his crooked teeth
shoulder folded con risa
between spoons
of pistachio ice cream
i crayon

P U R O   T A M A Z U L A

above an eagle
eating a snake
i don’t speak English
i lick the bowl clean

my favorite game:

each of them hold
a side of a bed sheet
bring their arms above
their heads n
down

i
  duck
waves of cotton
limbs barrel thru
the plush fabric
when the game
is over, i reach
for their fingertips
palm the whole
framed sky

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