At night I become his missing arm. / The one he lost on the front, looked for / years later and didn´t find.

Bless the silence.       Bless the hiss.       Bless the punch. / Bless the kiss.       Bless the lemon.       Bless the lime. // Bless the fishbone in the throat of time.

I went out to my mailbox. / Everything was addressed to a previous occupant (twice removed) / who is now, / according to my neighbors, / deceased.

Love among unequals is not a math problem. / Is more profane than sacred. It means / a woman available, without joy.

As we arrived / the red-haired children / were it seemed everywhere staring at us / from behind things or caught / frozen in the open like frightened rabbits

Chinese ladybugs adapt quickly. They do not care about tradition. They undersell the French ladybugs and take over their turf. You’d think there would be enough for all, aphids being what they are, but no. Oh no.

I learn it means people prone to sadness / who develop depression, but it reminds me / of a favorite Chinese restaurant: Double / Happiness...

An at-times crushing, always beautiful chronicle of sorrow and its afterlife, Requiem with an Amulet in Its Beak will haunt you long after you’ve turned its final page.

I am a panting dog of a parent, running / to retrieve so many arms, legs, lips, / breasts, million nipples.