Juana Adcock
Here, me, myself.

My hand, of the five guardians
and a single spillway

says: You are not needed here
says: Here the stone and the woods are drunken
says: There they cry out for you in the blazing plains
says: There they seek out your jade skirt

Our mop of people
our hands the colour of prickly pears

say: There the wind beaten in nine places
say: There you will bathe, there you will cleanse
the one born in your hand
the one who lived in your hand

Not tomorrow. Not the day after tomorrow.
Here, now.

Loosen your fists and let go of earth trees roots pylons
palm tree highrise slippage bent cars
Loosen your fists and drop elevators satellites glass pools clay waves down the incline
the colours of cortex we never saw below
electrified saturations dragged dogs waterlogged burnt hair
offshoots of earth tidal
pánuco tamesí xigüe guayalejo undone in refuges

It rains, our faces turn into boats
our boots into barro mudslide
encharcadas

Chubasco chabacano parra tecladeando cumbiamba
desgarrar alter niesto nunca oscura fuga de
from the book SPLIT / Blue Diode Press
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Eavan Boland: "A Woman in the Doorway"

"Boland puts us where the speaker is, in space with what surrounds her—the present and often the past, mythologies and ideologies—as she is looking. She doesn’t just tell us what it’s like to look and live as a woman or mother or person outside of her country; she doesn’t just ask us to feel swept up in these feelings; instead, she gives us a physicalized, embodied experience."
 
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What Sparks Poetry:
Susan Tichy on "In Country That Is Rough, But Not Difficult, One Sees Where One Is & Where One Is Going at the Same Time"


"My home mountain range, the Colorado Sangre de Cristo, is an 80-mile fault-block uplift, with ten summits over 14,000 feet....Walking there for the last forty years has helped me learn that place is neither fixed nor purely spatial, but temporary and temporal, contingent and unstable, an intersection of forces I happen to encounter (and take part in) during my brief time on earth and briefer time as walker through a landscape. Here & now is a knot, and all its strands are moving."
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