Landfall
I write my name over and over on the surface of water.
I write:
sleepwalkerbad bitchstar gutssea kittenThe linger of some words on the surfacefreaks me...
This Fear
I am the daughtermy mother neverwanted. Trust was an illusion,how the painting of a blue bowlisn’t a bowl of blue flowers.She twisted rags...
The Subject
is love.
The form is bulbous.
There are echoes of horses,of cranes flying low,their throats’ rumbleas they land.
There is panic spreadingas you age.
There are echoes...
Penelope
Walking down a riverbank, Seine or ThamesI stopped to sit in a wrought-iron wafflechair, the kind that leaves its imprint on your skin.Soon the...
Jarod Rosello is a Cuban-American writer, cartoonist, and teacher from Miami, Florida. He is the author of the graphic novel The Well-Dressed Bear Will...
My Grandmother's Body
When the funeral director comes to
retrieve my grandmother’s body, a nighttime
response to my aunt’s inevitable call,
he wears his funeral-director suit.
He leaves the...
