Our Spider Plant
every morning             he waters the plant hanging
from the only window in the dining room
its leaves         falter towards floor
& attempt to reach the color they mimic
looking out the only window in the dining room
father ushers   winter’s sunlight in
reaches for the yellow it lyrics
to save a plant i abandoned    thought dead 
father tries to usher sunlight to his mouth
               a form of love he cannot sip
wants to save a sorrow           he abandoned dead
               & makes with his hands          a river
the love he wants to sip          tastes of loneliness                
               his sister          halved from life  /  his heart
                              he rivers into his hands
the grief he longs to break
                                                          his daughter    halved from his side
                            i forget to call him       in the piercing of day
                                            but father turns from his grief.           breaks
              into the heat of the dining room        to my plant
              where he cannot forget to call           a piercing day
a morning        where the plant hangs and thirsts
                                    through the dining room’s heat & plants
            his feet to the floor unfaltering. unleaving. until it drinks
Mother says
flor de granada
lila
tienes que seguir atendiendo
a un jardín muerto
y qué podrá florecer
turns to me to ask
qué harías si dejara a tu padre
no pudiera sobrevivir sin mi
just the image
she entertains
learns how to swallow lackluster bouquets
hallmark cards
no memory of what beloved
she presses to her neck
using only voice
she maps back
matrilineal lonelinesses
mi tia mari soporto los cuernos de su esposo
mi papá pegaba mi mamá
mother turns again spinning carousel
cuando me vas a dar un nieto
& the man attached to it
I offer instead the garden of my body
how weeds frame overwhelming desire
gladiolus
lily of the valley
leaves & petals brush each other
unfurl beneath the sun’s lips
tell me what your spade strikes
when you begin to dig

Moni Garcia (they/them) is a queer Latine artist and poet from Illinois. They received their MFA from Arizona State University, and have been published or forthcoming in Foglifter Journal, NOTHING HERE IS CORRECT AND IT IS DELICIOUS: A zine dedicated to the CW, Voicemail Poems, and elsewhere. They can be found on Twitter @rosapalagosa.