Category: Poetry
Little Green & My Father Cultivated the Rose of José Martí
“Esto,” she said, “es el rosa /
that never limits boundaries, /
If This Poem & hay viejos que caen
if this poem weren’t in English /
it wouldn’t have been published in the US //
a celebration of masa
we ain’t making tamales now /
estamos celebrando esa masa /
that wiggles & giggles //
Palabras exactas & Curso de lenguas
Quien quiera atisbar el infinito /
que intente aprender alguna lengua.
Bloody Half-Birth & An Afternoon Reparenting On An Empty Playground
This freedom used to elude me, /
but now, a smile untangles /
Here’s to La Familia, Fuego Dancers, & Hacia la Luz
Here’s to the Chicanos /
The Mexicanos /
Our Indigenous ancestors /
Yá hmi ma ‘yu̲*
At times, only sometimes /
in the brightness of the moon /
the eyes of the leaves /
signal the course of things /
Elegía por mi español & Rasquache, Defined & Declared
Rasquachismo is us, and we are rasquachismo. /