if i were a key. if men were not quiet, exactly,
but still. if something small named sacred stayed
by my side. if i knew holier eras like a friend,
a crane, a coconut. what i split open could heal.
if time was not a cosmonaut. not nationed.
unappointed, slivered infinitely into reunion.
i would unearth a softer blade, cut tunnels
in dead wood. count every lizard. lose sleep
to see the sun rise over a very old catastrophe,
say what i mean: dear father, cousin, beloved,
still living. wake up on a wetland, bleating.
conditions under which everything might be different by Kristin Lueke
$15.00Price
Kristin Lueke is a Chicana poet, co-founder of Field of Practice, a values-driven creative studio, and author of the chapbooks (in)different math (Dancing Girl Press, 2012) and here i show you a human heart (2025). Her poetry has appeared in Sixth Finch, Wildness, Okay Donkey, The Maine Review, Mizna, HAD, and elsewhere. Kristin lives in northern New Mexico and writes at www.theanimaleats.com.
