Self-Portrait of a Boy Pretending to Be a Boy

In the movie, pioneers cross an arm of the Brazos and I think abrazos—how the river wraps wagons, waves children into the past, past parents whose visions of fertile pastures don’t include drought hardened soil unable to hold dead children or wind-maddened women. In one scene, prairie grasses strewn with treasures, too heavy to carry

come to me corgis come to me from conquered vale mountain and stream oh the slaves the spices the silver and gold come see the kingdoms I have won for you leap and frolic and bark by my side come to me corgis come to me they do our bidding this grand biddy’s bidding oh

after Faiz, Sauda come walk with me by the lake’s empty benches tell me, dressed in roses that we need some air. the wound’s head has reached the heart– there’s no use in sewing it or rubbing it with balm. all the lovers have snuffed their lamps, headed back over the broken paths. said Sauda