El o las alas/ He or the wings
He— the only man that came to her mind while putting on her guaraches she bought long ago in a guarache shop in San Juan de Dios; while driving to and from work through those familiar streets which she now drove through almost unconsciously (as it often happens with things that become mundane); he came to her at random times and moments. But most importantly, he came to her when no one else did.
Add comment January 4, 2006
Hands up high/ manos arriba
He
placed his hands up high
and, like a little girl, she couldn’t reach
he said they were there to protect her
she believed
and then one day
the sun no longer shined through them
He
didn’t mean to cut her off
didn’t mean to holler back
and yet she couldn’t speak
and when she did she had to scream
to be heard
only then it was too late
Add comment March 30, 2005
Autobiography/ Autobiografia
My father didn’t eat for three days before crossing to “el otro lado”. While my dad scavenged his surroundings—todo hambriento, trying to figure out a way into the land of opportunity, farther south my grandmother passed her days worried sick for him. What’s peculiar about this story is that my grandmother, completely clueless of her son’s whereabouts, didn’t eat for three days as well. The story goes that for those three days every time my grandmother would try to swallow her food, she would feel a “raspón” in her throat. Witnesses say that every time she attempted to eat during those three days and she felt that sharp “raspón”, she would remember my father exclaiming, “Ese raspón lo siento porque mi hijo no ha comido”.
Add comment November 4, 2004
