Poem 13

In your absence it was my job
to keep the dog from digging

in the yard. But I was rabid too.
I was in a fever and lock jawed
and so insatiably thirsty
I drank
and drank
and drank
‘til I could feel it move inside me
like my very own tide;

you were a strong moon.
In that horrifying dream
I am the one destroying.
I have a tide in my belly then too
which moves my whole body.

In this waking life
the rabid me follows my mouth,
my nose which can’t understand either,
but night after night brings me to this same bed.

*
Our dog is learning: digs,
avoiding the flowering weeds
you couldn’t help but to love.

--marlo barrera

june 2010

Isn't She a Beauty? or Poems for People I Love(d) Once; Big Pelican Puppet

These images of our coast are horrifying. A friend and I are looking to build a giant pelican puppet covered in oil to brign through the streets and organize some actions. Let me know if you want to help with the thing. No impunity for big oil!

Also, I finished a chapbook this semester. It is called Isn't She a Beauty? or Poems for People I Love(d) Once. There are about 14 poems in there. I sewed them all and drew the covers and everything. Soon I will scan one and put it on here so you can see what it looks like. I made only 28 copies. If you want one, please email me (mgbarrera@gmail.com) and I can get one to you. Giving me some mailing money would be really nice if you have it and if you donate a little money that would be great because it will go toward the big puppet and hopefully some other projects like that for the spill.

Starlings Fall Dead From the Sky

here.

They both came at once

Here is a video that my friend Rafe Scobey-Thal made out of my haiku that I posted a while back.
I think it's pretty great.

Untitled from Rafe Scobey on Vimeo.

Romantic Dogs in Best Undergraduate Writing of 2009!

It got in there!

Here is the link.

poem 12: The Nest

The Nest

The home was a threat before the hornets froze out in this year’s short winter. Since December I watched the nest deaden. In March I cut the branches from the tree.
It was the weight from the shell that made my body
ache and the caved wall in the side of the beast
that exposed its thousand eyes, the jealous lover.


With its eyes, its shell, its wanting,
the old hive made me a woman.
So now I can eulogize
half the population with:
she was a woman too.
Meaning: we are organs
and all the keys are down.


I learn yearly how to love.
This usually happens at the start
of fall. Now I am half way through
the year and I am hungry.

*

Reading about hornets, I learn the queen
can survive through the harshest months
in a slumber. I learn she is home and bodied.

-marlo barrera, march 2010

How to Make a Bird Sound