As one of her poems is called "Fragmentos/Fragments," I will also give you some fragments that stuck out for me for various reasons.
From "Milagros": "the time has come to storm heaven." This meant what it meant in its own context ("after a painting by Francisco LeFebre") and time, but it seems so timely now!
I love how the title, "Before You," sets up the first line of this poem: "My poems had no you."
In "Everywoman," probably because of the food and because I was once in a play called The Clean House," these lines stuck out: "All I want / is a clean house // Salsa on Muenster cheese / Pan dulce."
Today, we need rain, it's hot, the air is heavy, so I reinterpret "History" for its present resonance: "We prayed for rain / and the rain came." I hope it does, overnight!
In "We Talk About Spanish," a poem about language and love: "I crossed over to him / Fearless as a spider," so I have to tell you I found a spider on this book, and it crossed over to me!
In "Translation from the Vietnamese," she "hold[s] a poem up to the light
until it can be heard
above the detonations
in the crumpled silk of the jungle
a six-toned wood flute
the sound of one hand writing
down the worlds that survived
In the fragments poem, she examines the difficulties of language, how it changes us:
In moments of grace,
poetry or prayer,
English uses me.
But most of the time, I use it.
I do not always like what I
have become in this tongue.
Oh, I have to note the irony of these lines right now, from "Wanted": "American your face is on wanted posters in post offices." Or should be. "Remember remember who you are America / Purple mountain majesty above fruited plains / worked by mejicanos."
And as the summer cicadas sing in my own back yard, I love this unique image: "cicadas hum like / gourds on ankles of pueblo dancers." What a month I'm having, learning so much through poetry!