the entire borough of Queens doesn’t count,
especially our sinkhole spot in the borough,
no yellow cab traffic honks, or women
striding through streets in high-heeled pumps,
only roaring from Idlewild airfield
practically at our backdoor.
Over there, there is a green thing in the way,
under the silver of the moon that isn’t shining
because it is the daytime, and on its many arms,
there are so many thorns you could call it a coat
In first grade, Peter brought a fat
branch down on my neck for slogging
around the first base line.
I am not a taxidermist, I am afraid of John Wayne.
When the For You page on TikTok
started showing me videos en español,
I sunk deeper in the sheets:
