Mamita

Mamita
Because
She is not old
Therefore
Grandmother
Is uncalled for

Mamita
Shuffles her feet
All around
Her green house
Coughing
Her hacking cough
Swatting flies
Sweeping
Floors
A little angry
A little happy
Always both

Matriarch
And
When she calls
They come
One by one
Her children
And their
Children
I am
One of them

Arms
Wrapped
Around her
Tiny

Fragile

Body.

So much woman.

She must
Be dynamite.

My mothers
Mother
And therefore
The final word

Never
Grandma
But Mamita

The womb
We all
Crawled out of
The same one
Who keeps calling

Come back
Come back

To your motherland

Papi And The Rain

its raining
and you’ve flung
all windows
and doors open

there is a song
dusty and old
like the Polaroid’s
Mami has stuffed
into albums
I pull out
Now

there are smiles
wider
than I have ever seen

you and her at the beach
someone’s birthday
in a crammed hallway

then there’s me
a tiny bundle
who seems
to always be crying

Corazon, you
should have been born
when it was raining
you tell me
you could have been
a teardrop
rushing
nowhere but the end

there is lightening
and you’re almost laughing
in delight
and I get the urge to write you like this
so happy
we almost forget
where we are
and how sick you’ve been
instead
its…

invierno
in El Salvador
and the sky
is weeping with joy
the tree branches so heavy
they too
drop creatures
unto the floor

mangos
hocotes
nances
oranges

the smell of wet dirt
crawling into our nostrils
the mud
as red and rich
as your skin

the dusty song
a little softer
a little further

…and
Im writing
It this way

so much better
so much nicer
another poem
for you
Papito.

Medusa's Love Note

Rip
Nose
microscopic demons
eyes
Tire tracks
Chapped lips
and
Broken eggshells
From your face

Take
Tangled feathers
From arms pit
And understand
Stones
Are more prone
to flight

You said
There is faith in silence
You speak
Too much

Don’t blame me for leaving
For not understanding
Never loving

I am snake hair
Stone touch
forked tongue
wrapped around index finger

Fuck
The day
I ever need you

Rip
Everything
That is you
From you

Broken eggshells
Tangled feathers
You look for me
Too much
For someone
Who has as much
Faith as you claim.