Juan Luis Guzmán
pantoum with a paleta inside
At the author’s request, this poem has been temporarily removed. It may return to the site in the future.
Home of the Fresno State Creative Writing Alumni Chapter
At the author’s request, this poem has been temporarily removed. It may return to the site in the future.
Between my encampment of
bones & all time & territory,
an instrument swings but my
editor said to stop using it
so much she said I’m not saying
what I mean, so I write
this word instead it’s almost
like a pair of wet hands
tugging a bell of sunset in
& out of this world
a hot light under the door
that leads to the beautiful
women I don’t want to be anymore
I hug them anyways
Editor’s note: for mobile users, this poem is best viewed in landscape mode.
dematerializes desire desensitizes delirium delivers destruction
detention demands depression deceptive demonstrations
desperation devilish delight despite demented defenses
deconsecrating democracy despair deepens
deadens
decide dear devotees
decolonize degrees demilitarize departments destroy deathtraps
defund destruction deny despots devour deplorables
deconstruct demonstrate demands determine delights
These must be
what the old white
poets were
raving about
—how they
make so
much room
for themselves.
If you can’t
tell if I am
angry, exactly,
I am.
I can
and cannot
write about
trees right now.
I can
and cannot
write about
white terror,
or make a choice.
That’s what
you all do
not understand.
These white
birches
have some
audacity, existing.
If I just
stood there,
accepting,
I could be
like them.
But I could
never again
call myself
human.
Editor’s note: for mobile users, this poem is best viewed in landscape mode.
At the author’s request, this poem has been temporarily removed. It may return to the site in the future.