Potential Titles: Martin Espada

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Warm on the table of my truce with the world - Martin Espada "After the Goose that Rose Like the God of Geese"

No cacophony of the dead - Martin Espada "After the Goose that Rose Like the God of Geese"

To worship the dark saint of the sea - Martin Espada "Alabanza: In Praise of Local 100"

Mouths chewing the ash of earthquakes - Martin Espada "Alabanza: In Praise of Local 100"

Through the windows of an ancient aquarium - Martin Espada "Alabanza: In Praise of Local 100"

After night burst the dam of day - Martin Espada "Alabanza: In Praise of Local 100"

Smoke-beings flung in constellations - Martin Espada "Alabanza: In Praise of Local 100"

Searching my face for poetry - Martin Espada "Black Islands"

A medallion hung around his neck - Martin Espada "Breve Pausa"

The evidence is in the poetry - Martin Espada "Breve Pausa"

Empty as the husk of a locust in drought - Martin Espada "The Five Horses of Doctor Ramon Emeterio Betances"

Laudanum by the bitter spoonful - Martin Espada "The Five Horses of Doctor Ramon Emeterio Betances"

In the dim of the kerosene lamps - Martin Espada "The Five Horses of Doctor Ramon Emeterio Betances"

Woke up from the opiate of empire - Martin Espada "The Five Horses of Doctor Ramon Emeterio Betances"

The doctor who exhausted five horses - Martin Espada "The Five Horses of Doctor Ramon Emeterio Betances"

Chased invisible armies into the night - Martin Espada "The Five Horses of Doctor Ramon Emeterio Betances"

Wise Men lost on their way to Bethlehem - Martin Espada "Flowers and Bullets"

With flowers and bullets in my heart - Martin Espada "Flowers and Bullets"

Listen to the bell in the ruins - Martin Espada "Heal the Cracks in the Bell of the World"

That once spoke the tongue of smoke - Martin Espada "Heal the Cracks in the Bell of the World"

At midnight in the ancient language of bronze - Martin Espada "Heal the Cracks in the Bell of the World"

Cracks in the bell of the moon - Martin Espada "Heal the Cracks in the Bell of the World"

Fell before the whip and steel - Martin Espada "How We Could Have Lived or Died This Way"

Bullet holes in the soles of his feet - Martin Espada "How We Could Have Lived or Died This Way"

As bees suffocate in a jar - Martin Espada "How We Could Have Lived or Died This Way"

Rowed his captain's Saint Bernard ashore - Martin Espada "Inheritance of Waterfalls and Sharks"

Speared mangos with bayonets - Martin Espada "Inheritance of Waterfalls and Sharks"

The ghost of Hamlet's father wandering through - Martin Espada "Inheritance of Waterfalls and Sharks"

When Quijote roared his challenge to giants - Martin Espada "Inheritance of Waterfalls and Sharks"

Whipping Quijote's sword overhead - Martin Espada "Inheritance of Waterfalls and Sharks"

They wait their turn to testify - Martin Espada "Mad Love"

Demon rust loosening the bolts - Martin Espada "A Million Ants Swarming Through His Body"

Speaks in the water’s tongue - Martin Espada "Not Here"

Fountain of smoke - Martin Espada "Not Here"

Better than the language of galaxies - Martin Espada "Of the Threads that Connect the Stars"

Verses about the night - Martin Espada "The Republic of Poetry"

Devoured by the salt of the sea - Martin Espada "The Sinking of the San Jacinto"

So their light startles your eyes - Martin Espada "The Sinking of the San Jacinto"

Hearts grinding like millstones - Martin Espada “The Socialist in the Crowd"

Searching for another incantation - Martin Espada "The Soldiers in the Garden"

Never let the ball escape his glove - Martin Espada "The Trouble Ball [excerpt]"

Dropped the third strike with two outs - Martin Espada "The Trouble Ball [excerpt]"

Painted with four-leaf clovers - Martin Espada "The Trouble Ball [excerpt]"

A puppet and his furious puppeteer - Martin Espada "The Trouble Ball [excerpt]"

A wrecking ball swung an uppercut - Martin Espada "The Trouble Ball [excerpt]"

Lost in the circles and diamonds - Martin Espada "The Trouble Ball [excerpt]"

Accelerate down the line to steal home - Martin Espada "The Trouble Ball [excerpt]"

Rubbed off by oblivion's thumb - Martin Espada "Vivas to Those Who Have Failed: The Paterson Silk Strike, 1913: I. The Red Flag"

For they become the river - Martin Espada "Vivas to Those Who Have Failed: The Paterson Silk Strike, 1913: V. Vivas to Those Who Have Failed"

Chipping at their tree with a comb - Martin Espada "Wake Up, Mario"

Breathing the plague on them - Martin Espada "Wake Up, Mario"

The hieroglyphics tumbling from his mouth - Martin Espada "Wake Up, Mario"

Revolutionaries the bullets cannot kill - Martin Espada "Wake Up, Mario"


Poet's page at poets.org.


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