by Gene Novogrodsky But five, she, the Mexican-American Girl with round dark face and Asiatic Eyes, Bering Strait, and Thousands of years and feet, You, little girl, will never be on Mexican TV, You who marched into history And wait for your piece ….

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by Gene Novogrodsky Her nightgown, off, Her taste, Her shirt, off yesterday, Her sweat, perfume traces. Two men in the big store’s white glare, Reading fresh ads, slowly. Two men in the convenience store, Heads visible through dirty plate Glass, white glare. Gown, shirt, void. I’m in the big store, Killing the morning, I’m in [...]

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