Migraine headache ___a migrant backache ______from father to son. An American daughter-in-law _____our burden together. Donna wears her emotions on a flushed pale face washed with ivory cream ___what she brings to the table white rice _________mother taught her to wash and steam. Her father and brother wonder why I never finished business... Continue Reading →
The Time Machine
The Powerball is thirteen and I watch the guys in the bar clutch their tickets. They’re anxious for Laurie to scan their numbers but I don’t care. I sip the rest of my gin. It’s down to the dregs. Just melted ice and lime with a whiff of its piney scent. “Hold your horses!” Laurie... Continue Reading →
Fortune Cookies, Too
The son becomes the father _____when the father passes Your obligation becomes your life We replace the old __hardwood living room _____with thick gray carpet It's not an accident if you allow it Katie's waist thins over time stretches mark the months _____Billy depended on her Make sure to caress them __when you bathe Mother... Continue Reading →
The Next Day
This is an old poem I wrote about fathers and sons, relationships, love and being an immigrant. I think I wrote it a half dozen or so years after my father passed and maybe a year or two after I broke up with a woman who I thought I was going to marry. I think... Continue Reading →
Wanderers
Looking for a place to settle my Father walked me ___between the tracks leading to the next town, our town with a different name, familiar enough. Trains push air under dust, it is so dry, our breathing, like eating dirt from the earth. It’s a drought, he says, not looking at me. Our destination ___is... Continue Reading →
Mister Saechao 