“…my apartment is full of tables; I have at my disposal a table in the bedroom, in the living room and on the balcony; the more tables, the more sorcery.”
In the middle of this, I also left behind / my mother, forty-six years old, / still menstruating, still falling in love, / her long hair gathered in a sloppy hair pin, / making family dinners
“Ars Poetica was for the release of Mizrahi anger, on the cutting edge, about speaking back. Poetry wasn’t ten people in a library anymore. Ars Poetica was built on Facebook, it was like a stadium.”
All in all I’m a worn-out dog living between volcanic mountains / that God created for her, circling in silence / after nothing but to talk to talk to talk to talk …
“Also my mother and also me / it turns out / were pregnant // and we miscarried on the same day”
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