Poetry. "My daughter," the text tells us, "my daughter": among crises economic and personal, the histories and documents of atrocities, the missing limbs and mummified ears, the Golden Girls and the construction and questioning of genders, Matuk makes it all a personal issue. My Daughter La Chola Near Sonnet call to me the one among your names that opens beneath you intimate as your next thought cymballing on the shore arranging all those grains of sand mica in the mosaic of the bank's portico all your lived and storied coordinates that you are young that you are blank in the air in the cluster of antenna the remaining Barton men make of themselves riding back the yellow fire hills of California slip between understandings name the single ridge of bell bronze that tins out the wind