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Dear Celan EMMY PÉREZ How do you move boulders like organs? With language? I am too comfortable underneath a boulder, snow trickling into the river, organs watered clean, into grains of sand and silt over time without my noticing. Yours is a snow-bed. Coearth . And you fall and fall. Once, I felt Your course and mine was the boulder’s flight. Once, for a time, I was moved by Lorca’s verde que te quiero verde before border patrol youth reached for his gun at the Río Rico bluffs. There was a time when I listened to chicharras in August and remembered co-planet, planets in orbit, everything manic green. When I starve the grass and starve the creatures of grass, even the chiggers, what becomes of me? I am lying when I say, once. * “Dear Celan” quotes the poem “What occurred?,” from Poems of Paul Celan: A Bilingual German/English Edition, rev. ed., trans. Michael Hamburger (New York: Persea Books, 2002). ♦ ♦ ♦ ...

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