Last Week in New Mexico                                                                                             

Last week in New Mexico

I saw a bobcat cross the road

and a rattlesnake on a rock, rattling

and coiling and rattling more, and 

I saw a wild turkey by another road,

and I watched my brother as he spotted

two bear cubs, which he pointed out to me 

but which I didn’t see, but I did see my brother

see them, which is like a second hand sighting

of two bear cubs, with the mama bear not visible

to me or to my brother, but we both watched out for her,

carefully.

What Broke The Camel’s Back

The kiwi vine growing from under the house & reaching my 2nd floor bedroom.

Sewage in the basement and pantry moths in the kitchen.

Scraping dried cat shit off your father’s bedroom floor.

The second sinus infection in three weeks.

The drunks yelling “Fuck you” at 2am.

The impersonal thank you note.

That final nasty drunken tirade.

My blood on the stairway wall.

What you said to me back then.

My top weight of 278 pounds.

Telling me to forgive them.

Reciting the Lord’s Prayer.

Rabbit fur handcuffs.

Your damn thyroid.

Dvora Robinson is a writer and visual artist living in Portland, Oregon with her spouse and one cat. Her poem "Powell Butte" was selected for Poetry Moves in Vancouver, Washington, and her poem is currently displayed in Vancouver buses. She enjoys walking, making art, and learning beginning Spanish at a leisurely pace. She earned a BFA in Printmaking from Loyola University - New Orleans in 1993.