Barbara Jane Reyes

To honor movement in crescendos of text, combing through ashes for fragments of human bone, studying maps drawn for the absurdity of navigation — what may be so edgy about this state of emergency is my lack of apology for what I am bound to do. For instance, if I dream the wetness of your […]

20 years ago

Lullaby in SoMa for Paloma

rhapsodist of mission street she knows symphonies of human skull to parking meter collisions where crystal meth boys in go-go boots don’t know today from next week and bloodshot men are an itch in her sock she tumbles down someplace hotel stairs braids flying behind her turf tag blur hallways bounding between galaxies following the […]

20 years ago

Going Outside to Find the Sky

It is much higher at high noon, and I have to stand on my tiptoes to touch it with the tips of my straining fingers. In Chinatown, firecrackers jumping in sunlight like glinting pistols tell me it is time for old ghosts to rest. The boy version of me once said he would ride a […]

20 years ago

Asking

there is ghazal swimming inside of her, wanting to be born. on the matter of foretelling, of small miracles, cactus flowers in bloom on this city fire escape, where inside your tongue touches every inch of her skin, where you lay your hand on her belly and sleep. here, she fingers the ornate remains of […]

20 years ago