“What becomes of the past if the future snaps off, brittle, the present left as a jagged edge opening on nothing?”
One day, Kyoko had the idea of showing her vegetable garden reflected in a hand mirror to her husband upstairs. For her husband, confined to bed, this alone would open out a new life before him. One could never say that it was simply “this,”
Centuries ago, laborers raised tons of stone without the wheel to build Machu Picchu; Pizarro and his army of conquistadores missed it, leaving the stones untouched. Now, hands snap towers,crack walls, wreck temples, stuffing sticky rubble into mouths. Marshmallow Rice Krispie Treat Machu Picchu lies in ruins.
I feel that it is poetry that has led me into political action and not political action which has caused me to write poems.