Hello, constellation—my other face as suburbia explodes at dawn. Windy hello, my blown-away papers, sheets radiating like dandelion seeds. Hello, silo’s gleaming tin saying, breathe as I pass along the highway. Shiny hello. Guard at the halfway house disappearing for an hour, hello. I missed the light off your sunglasses. Hello, footfall on sand tilting […]
Nothing to hear in that hollow. Not boats, not the cadence of boats and their oars. Not wood and water and the ferry to island in a storm, not rain. Not the repetition of rain and the often loved sound of trees. Or the sea. Or the open mouth receiving. Not the lean of the […]
Give me clove and tenderloin. Hammer a bottle into powder. Smear crystals on mud and call it tongue. Say my name in gasoline. Stun a bird with a stone and own it.
Oliver de la Paz talks about a poem he wishes he’d written.
Oliver de la Paz talks about a current poetry project on which he’s working.
Oliver de la Paz discusses the genesis of his poem “Aubade with Doves a Television and Fire”.
They last long for Fidelito who is not of this earth. With its alphabets and loose-leaf, sheets of construction paper, oranges, blues, lunch boxes, crepe-paper, paper maché, the teacher talk and rasp of chalk, long division, multiplication, pronunciation, spelling and quelled hungers at lunch hour, the recesses of chase the girls/boys, catch-as-catch-can, freeze tag, war […]
You’ve found me and lost me again. How come there are interruptions in your day? How come the sweet grass and the hayseed? Pardon? Pardon my leanings, I’ve wished you gone. Wished you’d depart into woods, though you are the woods. I’ve called you “thicket” sometimes. I’ve called you bramble and black lorry. […]