Under the Valencia tree invisible to Moselle’s family celebration
I know what it means to be in a generational kitchen, the whirl of open
wounds, variety of snacks; all bound by repetition of cells and habit.
The night absorbs 10 o’clock news, melody, some hammering.
This is summer, which explains everything: tomatoes blush, plums drop into
palms, hard pears shape into women who could spur the dogs.
The pale city world is curbside for young men, brown
Beer bottles cool in hand, their intermittent roars fill the long envelope
of night as if wild roses still bud from this wasted terrain.
Wind juggles the oranges above me, the evening passenger train (soundtrack
of longing) runs the length of scars, bound north. Moselle’s family folds in, each to their familiar bed, each to hear another’s dreams.
Jacqueline De Angelis is the winner of the Crossing Boundaries Award for innovative and experimental writing and a finalist for both the Emily Dickinson and Allen Ginsberg Awards. She has been published Agni, International Quarterly, The Patterson Literary Review, and in Another City: Writing from Los Angeles, City Lights Press, and other publications. She received her MFA from Bennington College and lives in the Santa Monica Mountains in California, USA.