my cento
The first time someone called me “sweetheart”,
I sold my library, my piano. I boarded a train
tremulously in the direction of the beach.
I had the transport all to myself.
Lovely enchanting language, sugar-cane,
if you eat too much of it, you want more—
one part surge, another spray. One part the urging
you know by name.
Into this noise sailed
caged birds that sing, birds that talk—
and say that a poet wakes up one morning
for a single, beautiful word.
the poems & their poets
Sugar Cane by Alfred Corn
Gilgamesh by Spencer Reece
Five Versions of Captain Cook by Kenneth Slessor
From Omeros by Derek Walcott
The Forerunners by George Hebert
Cuba, 1962 by Ai
Lamella by Bruce Bond
From “from a red barn” by Víctor Rodríguez Núñez
Banana Palace by Dana Levin
Migrations by Dorian Merina
The Great House in Various Light by Mark Mcmorris
Parsley by Rita Dove