My Daughter la Coatlicue. They say when goddess Coatlicue was first excavated/ She was so fearful that they placed her back into the ground/ She was hidden for years /Her face was made of two serpents and this accelerated the heart of anyone who stood beneath her. They tell me a male doctor will take you out of my soil/ Unroot you… Continue reading My Daughter la Coatlicue
Your Tia invites a white lady to your familys Carne asada and It goes as bad as you think it will go.. I REPEAT.. YOUR TIA INVITES a white lady to your FAMILY carne asada And it DOES go as bad as you think it will go… Regardless of the fact that you are speaking… Continue reading Barbie-que? Barbie
When you’ve given up on being a writer... Your journal will look like it walked down a cosmetics aisle.. Smeared with lipstick and ink.. From being carried in a bag so often..always in hopes of writing something new. When you’ve given up on being a writer you will stop imagining what your book will look… Continue reading When you’ve given up on being a writer.
I have to let you go now I have to let you go.. Black child you did not come out of my womb, out of my rib, out of my home, I did not put the clothes on your bones.. I did not kiss your face tuck you in when your moon did glow. But… Continue reading Teachers Goodbye
Luis Rodriguez.. when talking of always running meant.. running from the gang life.. running from being a statistic..always running..always fighting..always with one cortez in the air and two arms moving in air like Coyolxaqui... like gods y goddesses of warfare.. soilders of the hood i commend you... and i pray for you.. But me when… Continue reading Always Running
Maybe one day I will have money. That day I will make your body queen And kiss you up and down your legs as if they’ve dripped with honey Humming Humming humming.. Like a bee whose found my hive. Today is not that day though.. And it is obvious because when I sway all you… Continue reading Money
"Don't go into the sun. You'll get to dark." They forgot that our ancestors were the people of the sun. That brown lovers always do it the best.. That we are also of the earth, which means we are like plants.. always growing the most beautiful in places with the most heat.. and in the… Continue reading Brown Summer
I remember being young.. It meant my darkness not being a nail in my cross. I'd run the soil through my brown fingers and let the soil seep through like water in a strainer and this did not bother me.. My skin matching my soil. My skin matching my mothers. My skin the same color… Continue reading Poodle Skirt