Identity

Identity

by Julio Noboa Polanco

Let them be as flowers,
always watered, fed, gaurded, admired
but harnessed to a pot of dirt.
I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed,
clinging on cliffs, like an eagle
wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks.
To have broken through the surface of stone
to live, to feel exposed to the madness
of the vast, eternal sky.
To be swayed by the breezes of an ancient sea,
carrying my soul, my seed beyond the mountains of time
or into the abyss of the bizarre.
I'd rather be unseen, and if,
then shunned by everyone
than to be a pleasant-smelling flower,
growing in clusters in the fertile valley
where they're praised, handled, and plucked
by greedy human hands.
I'd rather smell of musty, green stench
than of sweet, fragrant lilac.
If I could stand alone, strong and free
I'd rather be a tall ugly weed.

The Thing Is

The Thing Is
by Ellen Bass

To love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

Unit of Measure

Unit of Measure
by Sandra Beasley

All can be measured by the standard of the capybara.

Everyone is lesser than or greater than the capybara.

Everything is taller or shorter than the capybara.

Everything is mistaken for a Brazilian dance craze

more or less frequently than the capybara.

Everyone eats greater or fewer watermelons

than the capybara. Everyone eats more or less bark.

Everyone barks more than or less than the capybara,

who also whistles, clicks, grunts, and emits what is known

as his alarm squeal. Everyone is more or less alarmed

than a capybara, who—because his back legs

are longer than his front legs—feels like

he is going downhill at all times.

Everyone is more or less a master of grasses

than the capybara. Or going by the scientific name,

more or less Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris—

or, going by the Greek translation, more or less

water hog. Everyone is more or less

of a fish than the capybara, defined as the outermost realm

of fishdom by the 16th-century Catholic Church.

Everyone is eaten more or less often for Lent than

the capybara. Shredded, spiced, and served over plantains,

everything tastes more or less like pork

than the capybara. Before you decide that you are

greater than or lesser than a capybara, consider

that while the Brazilian capybara breeds only once a year,

the Venezuelan variety mates continuously.

Consider the last time you mated continuously.

Consider the year of your childhood when you had

exactly as many teeth as the capybara—

twenty—and all yours fell out, and all his

kept growing. Consider how his skin stretches

in only one direction. Accept that you are stretchier

than the capybara. Accept that you have foolishly

distributed your eyes, ears, and nostrils

all over your face. Accept that now you will never be able

to sleep underwater. Accept that the fish

will never gather to your capybara body offering

their soft, finned love. One of us, they say, one of us,

but they will not say it to you.