1. The New Dental Plan

    Closeup on the maple trash caught
    in the ‘L’s of the new stairway —
    fresh lumber already mildewed.

    A squirrel skitters down the oak
    enraged by a cat; a witch sulks
    in the crawlspace. We are all

    going to live under the house,
    and keep our teeth sharp
    by biting our names in the maple bark.

  2. Twenty Questions

    Has the darkness lifted?
    Is the round bud of the maple not filled with longing?

    How close can a room hold two, not speaking or touching?
    Does every thought glint, is every fire stolen?

    Is everything in the world immersed in the petroleum of desire?
    Have the clocks been wound, has the coffeemaker been unplugged?

    Has the crying from behind the keyhole subsided?
    Do you see where the fabric holds the shape of shoulders?

    Do you feel how the music rinses us clear?
    Has the rain fed you with riddles?

    Have I not been permeable to everything that has come?
    Would you tell me where to lay this burden down?

    Do you love the sweetness that precedes decay?
    Do you love the light behind every green blade?

    Do you love me homely?
    Do you take me plain?

    Have I not met you at every detour?
    Can you tell me what it is that brings you back?

    Each time, have we bent our heads to drink the water?
    Would you lie here with me beneath this ceiling of stars?

    ~ Luisa A. Igloria
    04 09 2011

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