Borders

  On the Eve we eat menudo. Onion mimics moon from a small bowl, glinted fractals of itself. Cilantro’s diced flesh lingers in the air. Bolilllos wait, steam rising. We…

Rooting

  . . . . . . . . . .Chihuahua Desert   Blood slid to soil and our roots splintered wide like needle-edged leaves of agave. We can never…

Apples & Other Languages

Camilla Nelson’s words bring things to life. ‘Stir this miracle to waking,’ she says, in the first poem in Apples & Other Languages, a signal of the alchemy of ideas…

She-Wolf, Kauttua 1963

For three nights the she-wolf skirted the village. Must be desperate, to leave the forest, her cubs must be starving. The men oiled their guns, waxed their skis, took their…

Who’ll Guard the Horse?

  for Tim Cope, and his horseback journey from Mongolia to Hungary.     Sheered pig fat for the dog, and in his eating, a spirit passing continental drift toward…