Articles By

Shebana Coelho

Weekly Poem: Certainly, Water

When I think of water spilling from a green bottle onto a wooden floor and the danger

it poses to a carpet and the Moroccan women I met once, Berber women with kohl
lined eyes and mehndi on their hands, who made carpets from wool they sheared
themselves, and who ululated on request for pictures because outside of Morocco that’s
what they were, ululating Berber women— …

Weekly Poem: Going Gone

 

 

 

Yesterday I up and went to Chimayo and Truchas
met an Uruguayan in Chimayo with a
honey voice
all rasp and rough
music a love song
gone to seed from
feeling too much and
living too hard and
painting all the same

In Truchas, a Basco raised in Cuba
with red ringed eyes
knew me for an Indian right away
Any Veda he could
lay his hands on, he said,
he had read…