Birth Spell

The way they tell it, it was September, when you shook your house of water.

That morning I ate an omelet with green apples and brie, staring at the world 

in the instant you climbed toward it. On the sidewalk, a book vendor drank quietly 

from a green book. Men unloaded bright bottles of lemon juice. Branches above bore 

pale moonlike fruits. I had never seen such fruits. The sky, breathing, lost its lid like

when those planes, two crying sopranos broke. Boys in neon sneakers soar over 

pavement, and the fountain is drinking just by existing. 

The traffic sign says don’t walk don’t walk don’t walk, then: walk. 

Eve, you came after Eve, my mother was born of Eve and bore a girl who bore you, 

Eve.  

 Spell for Leaving

One day, tectonic plates scalded the whole

apart, & this sea (it

was once), until it was 

corralled between

mountains & air molecules

like birds carried it

away leaving only a bed 

of salt, cornering

sun & air into mirrors, so water seems

to appear, but there was no

such water, even though those watching 

from afar insisted we could drink

our own water even as the ocean already

had tightened trying to never

breathe even though it had to &

each time the air took & lift

the car keys Nomi lift Nomi them Nomi can you 

will you Nomi lift.