Sara Borjas I Am Trying Not to Use the Word “Heart” So Much 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 tuggingContinue reading “Sara Borjas – I Am Trying Not to Use the Word “Heart” So Much”
Category Archives: Sara Borjas
Sara Borjas – White Birches
Sara Borjas White Birches Monson, Maine 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.
Sara Borjas – Conditions for Poetry
Sara Borjas Conditions for Poetry after Rich Villar You’ve got to feel trapped but know you can be fast.Cover your hands with socks and walk backwards.You’ve got to return instead of leave. Your body must stop at nothing to be acceptable. Eyes like dirty menudo bowls, brain of water.You’ve got to feel trapped but know you canContinue reading “Sara Borjas – Conditions for Poetry”
Sara Borjas – Maybe we all don’t really come from anywhere but come from running through
Sara Borjas Maybe we all don’t really come from anywhere but come from running through lands where we weren’t wanted or didn’t want ourselves and maybe it’s not a land maybe it’s an idea maybe it’s a kind of tree or road or love my grandma drove her kids across a country in a blueContinue reading “Sara Borjas – Maybe we all don’t really come from anywhere but come from running through”
Sara Borjas – Poem My Mother Writes about Things She Hates
Sara Borjas Poem My Mother Writes about Things She Hates A dirty house. Thin toilet paper. Stupid people. Crumbs in bed. Animal hair on any surface. Foggy days. When people make promises and never keep them, or deny doing anything wrong.Two lane freeways. Bad service at a Diccico’s. I don’t like waking up too early, losing at the casino, runningContinue reading “Sara Borjas – Poem My Mother Writes about Things She Hates”
