I realized that I have take a few workshops in the past year, but I haven't shared my poems.
I'll be sharing some throughout the rest of this journey, on top of lines from the bone pile (which you'll have to wait for a few posts before I get to that).
So without further ado, some poetry!:
11:45 p.m.
glow of television
outlines
cup of rice pudding
rice
congealed in cinnamon,
milk -
no name brand
representing
thousands of
Latinas and
lips,
looking for
satisfaction
late night calls
for,
stretching
toes on the side
of bed
no one sleeps
in,
TV falling into a
buzz as I scrape
last lumps
sticking
to the bottom of
cup.