by R. T. Castleberry
Tuesday’s death grasp becomes Wednesday’s resurrection.
Sick in Juarez,
nurses deconstruct the parable of the starling in the desert,
the judgment of the river.
As you heal,
the names of historians—Tacitus, Gibbon, Tuchman
sound from your mouth.
Breakfasts of melon, blood-warm oranges, brandy
are served after prayers, after 9:30.
As your recovery comes singing from the Sierra Oriental,
bandits pay your […]