nuec@ chican@ poetics
DESCRIPTION
A collection of poetry presented for the NACCS conferences in Edinburg, Tejas y San Antonio, Tejas.TRANSCRIPT
N u e v @ C h i c a n @ P o e t i c s
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P R E G U N T A S
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© poxo 2013 All rights reserved. Permission to reproduce any of the illustrations or written works, except for brief quoted text, must be obtained in writing from the indi-
Cover Art: rendering of chicharra exoskeleton Printed in El Valle, Tejas second printing Presented for the National Association For Chicana and Chicano Studies, March 2013
A C K N O W L E D G E M E N T S
“Mexicans Without Means” published in ¿WHAT’S IN A
NOMBRE? Writing Latin@ Identity in America: phati'tude Literary
Magazine.
“xicanismo haikus” published in Sagebrush Review: Literary and Art
Journal.
“Si te digo frontera” and “Mi lengua” published by Asociación
Cultural Myrtos, Andalucia, Spain 2010.
32
Rossy Evelin Lima, creative writer and linguist. Her poetry book Ecos de
Barro, will be published this year with a forward by the Mexican writer
Dolores Castro Varela. She has been published in five anthologies; La ruta
de los juglares. McAllen: TX, 2007. Letras en el estuario. Matamoros: Méxi-
co, 2008. Antología: La mujer rota. Guadalajara: Jalisco, 2008. El Retorno:
Our Serpent’s Tongue. Edinburg: TX, 2012. Along the River II. Rio
Grande Valley: TX, 2012. Rossy has been published in various literary
magazines and journals in the United States, Mexico and Spain such as 3D3
Revista de Creación, Asociación Cultural Myrtos. Andalucía: Spain, 2010.
Negritud. Atlanta: GA. 2012. Trajín Literario. Xochimilco: Mexico. 2012.
Hartz No. 22. Madrid: Spain, 2012, among others.She received the Gabriela
Mistral Award by the National Hispanic Honor Society on 2009. First place
in the poetry contest 2o Coloquio Estudiantil at the University of Texas
Pan-American, 2010 and first place in the poetry contest Certamen literario
José Arrese, 2011. First Place in the VAO Publishing's Annual Along the
River Poetry Award, 2012.
Christopher Carmona is a beat poet following in the tradition of beat poets
like Jack Kerouac, Bob Kaufman, and Raul Salinas. He was a nominee for
the Alfredo Cisneros de Miral Foundation Award for Writers in 2011 and a
Pushcart Prize nominee in 2012. He has been published in numerous jour-
nals and magazines including vandal., Bordersenses, and The Sagebrush
Review. He has a collection of poetry called beat by Slough Press and his
second, I Have Always Been Here is due for publication late 2013. He is
also editing a Beat Texas anthology called The Beatest State In The Union:
An Anthology of Beat Texas Writings with Chuck Taylor and Rob John-
son. Currently he is organizer of the Annual Beat Poetry and Arts Festival.
Gabriel Sanchez is a writer and poet from the Rio Grande Valley, South
Texas. He is a graduate of the University of Texas Pan American and also a
publisher under the name "The Raving Press". His poetry is at times histor-
ical, political and edgy and is featured in spoken word events and online.
Isaac Chavarría is a pocho with an MFA in Creative Writing from the Uni-
versity of Texas-Pan American. He enjoys assisting non-profit organiza-
tions in producing chapbooks for workshop participants. His poems are in
The Acentos Review and Rio Grande Review online. Ultimately, he hopes
the term pocho will represent a positive identity rather than a pejorative.
B I O G R A P H I E S
3
1
W H E R E I S T H E C H I C A N @ M O V E M E N T N O W ?
2
H O W D I D T H E C O N C E P T O F N U E V @ C H I C A N @ P O E T I C S B E G I N ?
3
W H O I S T H E N U E V @ C H I C A N @
4
W H E R E I S T H E N U E V @ C H I C A N @ P O E T I C S H E A D E D ?
4
31
la Chicharra nace en la tierra,
como la historia del chicanismo,
sale de la tierra
y hace un ruido
que se escucha a mucha distancia,
como la repercusion
del movimiento chicano,
y despues surge
como un nuevo ser:
Nuev@ Chican@ Poetics!!!
A N O T E A B O U T T H E C O V E R
pictured is the exoskeleton of Quesada giga, the Giant Cicada/
Chicharra Grande. This species is abundant in the rio grande valley,
and has a historical range within south texas.
for the first four years of their lifecycle the Chicharra Grande is
underground as an immature insect partly nurtured by feeding on
Huisache tree roots.
Huisache as well is a tree commonly found in south texas.
I . C
R . E . L . P
30
c.c is Christopher Carmona
mexicans without means, 6
on the day i was born, 19
xicanismo haiku, 23
g.h.s is Gabriel Hugo Sanchez
The Dead Chicano, 8
Nature of the Beast, 9
The Wall is Coming Down, 12
r.e.l.p is Rossy Evelin Lima Padilla
El canon de literatura inmigrane/chicana en Estados Unidos, 13
Mi Lengua, 18
Si te digo frontera, 21
Miel de mezquite, 26
i.c is Isaac Chavarría
un frontera pocho en san Antonio, 15
even chicanos, 27
C O N T E N T S
5
R E S P U E S T A S
6
1
29
Over the 40+ year history of the Chican@ movements, there has
been many shifting identities as well as approaches to literature and art. In
the 1960s the fledgling movement first established Chicano as an identity
for Mexican Americans, then the necessary voices of Chicanas in the 1970s,
80s, and 90s emerged to helm the movement, and today a current new
group has an even wider base of inclusion. Originally, the Chican@ identity
was only reserved for Mexican Americans, but as more Central and South
Americans integrate into “American” society, they have begun to share an
affinity with the Chican@ identity and combine their experience with the
Mexican American and create a different style of poetry, literature, and art.
Also because of the current political atmosphere both in the United States
(anti-Latin@ policies and sentiments) and Mexico (the Drug War
atmosphere), a new poetic form has emerged. Over the past 5 years,
Chican@ (both Chicano and Chicana combined) poetics has had a great
resurgence in interest and publication. There is a growing number of poetry
readings, chapbooks, magazine publications, and CDs of Latin@ writers
who have begun to identify with the political aspirations of the Chican@
movement. This project asks the questions: What has triggered such an
interest in Chican@ in recent times? What types of poetry, writing, and art
is being created and what are the social factors that have led to a new
Chican@ poetics?
N U E V @ S V O C E S P O E T I C A S : A D I A L O G U E A B O U T N E W C H I C A N @ P O E T I C S
C . C
28
get asco
at a prieto
complexion
and light siblings
even chicanos
visit pocho-
land-
and don’t come back
even chicanos
hide behind
jesus, maiden
names, and peacocks
even chicanos
chug budweiser
screaming mother
¿por qué no me visitas?
even chicanos
marry mexicanas
own two kids
and live complacently
ever after
I . C
E V E N
7
They say April is the cruelest month
well it certainly was for one white boy
on a Spring Break trip in the last year of 1980
found in a ditch on a Matamoros ranch
his name splashed across newspapers and television screens for years
but this poem is not about that boy
this poem is about the 14 other Mexicans in that shallow grave
whose eyelids have been eaten away by grub worms
revealing nothing but mud and the bottom of boots
tongues long ago cut off and sacrificed to the gods of popular media
their names only worth the space of a number: 14.
They were Mexicanos sin nombre.
Or maybe August is the cruelest month
when 26 migrants were found locked in a railroad car
broiled to death in a desert land where even the air burns
but not before they paid Coyote everything for a chance
to work 12 hrs a day stealing jobs Americans forget ever existed
They work in order to feed families left behind
certainly not before their towns were decimated by mass production
and the lowest price cost analysis
They were Mexicanos sin dinero.
Or maybe the cruelest month is October
when a visiting Colorado man was “killed by Mexican pirates”
while his wife watched in horror
his body never recovered
Her shock heard round the world from early morning news program to early
morning news program
Mexican pirates are worse than Caribbean pirates
No Johnny Depp here looking like a gay Keith Richards on acid.
This man was just another innocent casualty in the Mexican Drug Wars
A war Heartland America has nothing to do with
Just vacationing in its waters while the river wash away 50,000 dead
no names
no space for memory
no thoughts more than a passing pity
no voices one tongue speaks for them
nothing but laser fences and shaking heads.
They are just Mexicanos sin causa.
M E X I C A N S W I T H O U T M E A N S
8
C . C
But lets not forget about January
where a vanished woman lost her hand and her life
launching her voice and her body
into the war for equality
no soldiers funeral for her
no folded flag
no 21 gun salute
she fought a war of insurmountable odds with only her ideas and her tongue
she stood at the frontlines of every woman’s rights
shoulder’s straight fists clenched
conviction in her eyes.
She slung poems at the abyss and marked her words with blood
She gave her soul to the wind hoped that she would be felt
Yet, there she lies in a dumpster filled with yesterday’s rage
her left hand taken a warning to all
No national Susana Chavez holiday
No patriotic swelling of eyes for this soldier of change
who helped shape this world for the better
Just a few words from a few papers
Mexican woman risked it all so that a girl could walk the streets
without fear of being taken violated left like yesterday’s facebook post.
She was just a Mexicana sin luz.
Or maybe it was May when little Brisena Flores was swallowed whole
leaving a mother wondering why bullet have you feasted on such young flesh
but the bullet knew it is not the physics of combustible powders
the spark of metal on metal
it is the force of a finger pulling hatred and righteousness
because Mexican flowers can’t bloom in Arizona
they simply don’t have the means.
Little Brisena did not die without her name
she was buried on the tenth page of the paper of record
no Today Show special for a mother left without husband daughter
no 24 hour news cycle repeating the tragedy of a little girl’s death
nothing for Mexicans without means.
27
Me sabe a miel de mezquite esta casa
y a sobrevivencia el mundo que no habito,
donde yo me encuentro
se pierde la sonrisa del amigo
para convertirse en cerca
en desierto
en río.
Se confunden las lenguas
y el color cambia con la aurora.
Somos una mezcla,
un cantar al unísono.
Y mi letra es tuya
y en tu voz soy yo la que grita.
¿Cuándo podremos cantar la música de todos?
tú y yo solos,
separados por una lengua
una piel
un grito.
R . E . L . P
M I E L D E M E Z Q U I T E
26
poets were killed on the day after
conquest of the indios
can’t have colonized minds reading.
dreaming and reading make me write and sing
no stringed instruments or airy notes
just mi voz quiet like a lion purring for the pride.
cinco
karakawas guerreros danced on South Padre beaches
mextiso children sell chiclet’s on concrete bridges
los flores reynosa e matamoros progresso mcallen and brownsville
driving down 281 in buick skylark with purple clouds
dancing with bright sunshine and windows
rolled down breeze on the cuff of my sleeve.
bats in the bark sucking sweet nectar
from nefarious looking grapefruit tree
dad with a shovel SPLAT!!! last sound on radar.
greened coke bottle filled with water
very dry on the other side
grandpa says it keeps the dead quenched.
tlacuache running on my roof slips and spills
can hear scurrying no more
now on ground with lost footing ego bruised.
torn summer swing rocking back and forth across America
cold and dripping sugary raspa
red plastic straws stabbing holes for memories to fill.
C . C 9
Este Chicano
Man of letters…and guayaberas
Little hat sitting on his head
Cool…little leaf fluttering in the wind
He reads poems to ears that hear
gas-pffft! (puro pedo!)
Flatulence flowing from this man
From his mouth, fajita hole!
Dead Chicano
Dead! Chingado!
He’s reading his own obituary
He’s reading his sad soliloquy
Because he never knew
The tenderness of being loved
In this world he never fit
His heart too big too cosmic
We are ants here, little brown man
Chingate el mustache
Someone else is driving your car
But thanks for building it.
It’s a nice car, for everyone else
…But you
Dead Chicano Poet
Die now your ghost y cai-fine!
Your ashes sit in a jar
Propping up books
That talk about you
T H E D E A D C H I C A N O
G . H . S
10
Where are the poets of America?
Who’s talking of our realities
Are we broken mirrors unable to present the full view
Relegated to talking of cocks and cunts
Of haloed angels roaming the streets
Getting Jack-ed-off On The Road
Only hinting at a discontent
Where were those heroes of American poetry
When the Fox network declared that we were the enemy
That we are illegal
That we are criminal
O’rielly don’t embrace no colored man no matter how patriotic
And where were the heroes of poetic America
When they said we invaded as if war hungry monsters bent on destruction
Who started this war?
If not the middle of the nation where the meat-n-potatoes started
Tastin’ better cuz the Mexcuns were tilling the soil at slave wages but then wanted
to bring their mothers and their fathers and their sisters and their brothers and
The All-American boys strapped on their hoods in a panic,
in a violent Minute
Calling themselves patriotic,
tragic figures out on the quest to “preserve” America
And they do it happily if it will quash a lowly immigrant in the Arizona dessert
Or drown the down-trodden in the toxic waters of the Rio Grande stream
Fighting as if for anything other than a nation of immigrants…
Who called this war America?
Who if not you, for you started all wars that have torn us apart
Who started the War On Drugs
If not America in the intent to flood the Negro streets with crack cocaine
Who started the war on illegal immigration
Though ragged sailors were your fathers
Who crossed a larger stream
Yet they didn’t apply for no citizenship
And they didn’t ask but took
And they didn’t work for all but for themselves
And they didn’t first build on what was here but first destroyed
And then hung up bows and arrows on their air conditioned walls as relics of a for-
N A T U R E
25
I cannot afford it!
tres
sitting in the corner
dunce cap on
father, why speak Spanish in class?
dressed for Saturday night
my sister’s quincenera
she is a woman for tonight.
cactus nopal cactus nopal
prickly spines in my nalgas
oh ancient plant I cannot love you!
mom spins cures from grandma’s hands
spider webs for stitches
aloe vera for soothing a coke for headache.
fajitas on the (mex)quite grill
beers in my tios’ hands
tripas in the ground it’s Saturday night!
cuatro
susto got me in my sleepwalk
can’t wake me up
might kill my dream in mid-belief.
I’ve never had mal ojo
my grandma says
never let bad thoughts inside.
raining, pelting, hailing outside my bathroom
not like Mary on Sunday
more like Jesus hanging on velvet cross.
24
uno
lechuza on a high wire
a sparking transformer
the air waves sing in static
a crying woman has drowned
her children in a river
my ears hide behind shut I’s.
darkness spills out a crack
my closet door ajar
el cucuy el cucuy whispers in the dark.
devil at the baile
cool red jacket
dancing all night long on hooved heels.
as I lay sleeping
bed made of dreams
a huevo hides under my bed.
dos
the rio grande river
redundant name
my home mi frontera mi tierra
indios and spaniards both
in line at the checkout
speaking neither tongue.
mexican american chican@
I like winter stand between
summer and spring NO FALL!
bless me grandma
I am not catholic
X I C A N I S M O
11
gone era as if saying “Ah, fate. She is a fickle lady.”
And an Indian shed a tear on the TV and you thought wow that was the Ingun
way, so in touch with mother Earth that they would cry if they saw the garbage in
the streets
America you are obsessed with war
You have declared war on I-literacy
But the dead presidents make no tours down to the barrios and the ghettos
And the schools barely have paint on the walls
And the teachers don’t teach but indoctrinate
And the history is absent and Columbus is a hero
And slavery was an ugly chapter but that’s the past, right?
And reverse racism is real, you try being a white in an America where all the top
positions go to the blacks and browns and yellows and reds
And the ghettos are virtually non-existent because Affirmative Action has eradicat-
ed poverty
And the jails hold equal numbers of whites and colored and—WAIT!
This America doesn’t exist
Here in America War pervades-there’ll never be peace
THIS is America love it or leave it…
Or change it
But with change always travels conflict
And so the war isn’t over, America
The war on war has just started.
G . H . S
12
2
23
4
22
Si te digo Frontera
te tendré que pronunciar con llanto
por haber corrido con suerte,
con la llave de carne con la que me abrí paso
por entre los mezquites
dejando en ellos mi vestido.
Mojándome los labios salitrosos,
sabiendo que no te quiero pronunciar,
escuchando el sonar del río que te hace virgen
que me hace confusa de pensamiento
extraña, torcida y con anhelo.
Si te digo frontera
tendré también que gritar “muerte”
tres veces más, sentadita en tu orilla.
Honda, ya no me abras los ojos.
S I T E D I G O
R . E . L . P 13
The wall is coming to town
Gonna slice through
South Texas ground
Sharp, lethal, Romanesque
Gonna wound the flesh
Of victims that seek to pass
Cutting through this land
That is our home
Like an obsidian knife
Tearing through our chest
Searching to stop that heart
That beats with the movements of millennia
Migrations of our past
Are echoed in migrations of our present
The lives of men are destined
To a constant ebb and flow
No legality rules the movements
No right or wrong defines the action
Nature must take its course
Or there will eventually be war…
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[(OR)]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
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Atrocities that make
The spirit rebel
Like hunting illegals
In the desert like snakes
Or shooting bullets
At a man holding rocks
Calling it self-defense
(but you neglect to state
that he never threw at you, Mr. Migra!)
The wall is coming to town
Indeed not because we want it
Indeed not because we need it but because
Racism’s destiny is still manifest
The wall is coming down on us
THE WALL IS COMING DOWN!
T H E W A L L I S C O M I N G D O W N
G . H . S
14
El canon tiene dos formas, una medida implícita y otra explicita. Este
concepto se aplica a la literatura inmigrante/chicana en los Estados Unidos de la
siguiente forma. La medida explicita se puede palpar en las diversas antologías,
revistas de literatura, clases a nivel universitario y ponencias académicas en los
diferentes congresos de literatura escrita por hispanos en el país. Aquí vemos la
norma del arte verbal, la manera en la que se extienden las preferencias hacia una
literatura que refleje y que represente al hispano/latino en el gremio. La manera
explícita del canon de la literatura hispana en Estados Unidos nos habla de nuestro
pasado, y al validar nuestra narrativa nos ofrece la visión de un futuro en el que
nuestra presencia literaria no será ignorada. El canon, o las particularidades que
tienen en común las antologías, los libros publicados y las revistas literarias
hispanas en el país, entre otros, forman la base para los autores emergentes.
Sobretodo, las obras compiladas en estos medios nos permiten escuchar nuestra
historia por medio de la voz familiar, una voz que se parece a la nuestra y que nos
representa como tal. La publicación de obras hispanas en antologías de prestigio
como la Norton Anthology of Latino Literature, por casas editoriales de renombre
como Oxford, o por universidades como el programa Recovery de Arte Público
Press, elevan la literatura hispana y la colocan al alcance de las personas. De esta
manera sitúa al hispano para su reconocimiento social en un lugar donde se había
rezagado su existencia.
El canon explicito, es la reconstrucción de la historia de un grupo, en este
caso el hispano en Estados Unidos; una reconstrucción hecha por la elite académica
o literaria, que refleja un criterio y que tiene que llenar las expectativas de lo que es
hispano ante el resto de la sociedad. En mi opinión, el canon explicito, aunque
necesario para el avance del arte literario, basa sus normas en la interpretación de lo
que “es” hispano o chicano y cómo se maneja en el texto, más que en la selección de
textos de calidad escritos por hispanos. Es decir, el canon busca la uniformidad, la
congruencia dentro de los textos que incluye en sus antologías, la similitud en la
problemática político social que proyecta en las revistas y el impacto emocional que
E L C A N O N D E L I T E R A T U R A
21
but not before a dream was sung of a redheaded
stranger who would take everything from him
on the day that I was born
my first ancestor was created out of death and rape
his tongue was forbidden his native language
his hands forced to bleed production of cotton, corn, and Christianity
while his native mother spoke her stories dressed in European images
and asked to never forget that this might be a conquered land
but our spirit and body will always be free
as long as we dream sing and whisper our stories
to our children’s children Coyolxauhqui will know
whose eye to cry her tear into before the angels can plant their soul.
on the day that I was born
I cried for the first time
and have never stopped since.
C . C
20
on the day that I was born
the angels came to plant my soul
but Coyolxauhqui got there first
and cried a tear into my ear
so that I would forever dream in verse
on the day that I was born
we lived on Silver Street
while Columbus sailed the ocean blue
and chicharras sung their warning song
that the waves were bringing death, blood, and sickness
closer and closer to the shore
on the day that I was born
8-tracks played Iron Butterfly
my dad sped down dark streets
rushing to meet me for the first time
while Roque Dalton stared down a
perspiring barrel wet with anticipation
and his last words were
you may kill me here today but don’t say my name because I will come out of the ground
and live forever in the words I have written and you will never be able to stop saying my
name.
on the day that I was born
my mother took me in her arms
and spoke my name for the first time
not for my father or the Catholic saint of travellers
but for a little boy she knew who always
introduced himself—Christopher Richard
and as she lay in that steel hospital bed
thousands of indias had their wombs
stolen by the icy metallic hands of genocide
calling itself medicine and wellness
on the day that I was born
the last VW bug rolled off the production line
putting an end to the Hippie era while
Moteuczoma massacred thousands of dreamers
when he took power because
there is nothing more powerful than dreams
O N T H E D A Y
15
crea la narrativa de abuso, maltrato y sobrevivencia que se enseña en el currículo
académico. ¿Son estos parámetros los únicos que encontramos en la literatura
hispana en general?, ¿Ofrece el canon de la literatura hispana la revalidación del
arte literario hispano en el canon de la literatura mainstream del país? En mi
opinión, la literatura hispana va más allá de los temas subrayados y el canon de la
literatura hispana no promueve su integración a la literatura dominante o
mainstream.
El canon implícito dictamina que los poetas inmigrantes o chicanos deben
de hablar de su “realidad” para ser tomados en cuenta, así como he visto que al
poeta chicano se le toma en cuenta cuando habla sobre sus raíces mexicanas y su
derecho al reconocimiento social. El canon implícito define lo hispano y chicano, los
guía hacia la producción de obras que entren dentro de sus parámetros. Como
escritora, esto me preocupa ya que el 80% de mi obra no contiene temas
evidentemente político-sociales sobre mi condición inmigrante. Si bien no pienso
que este filtro sea cien por ciento perjudicial, sí opino que frena la libre expresión de
ideas. ¿La narrativa es considerada de inmigración o chicana porque toca temas y
esta escrita en un estilo particular, o porque es escrita por un inmigrante o chicano?
¿La narrativa es hispana porque la escriben hispanos, o porque el canon dice que
ciertas narrativas representan lo hispano?
El escritor inmigrante o chicano se representa a sí mismo; su expresión,
siempre cambiante y circular igual que la historia, envuelve la realidad del escritor
y debe ser validada como una nueva forma de expresión literaria, no bajo el
escrutinio y dictamen del canon y sus formas preconcebidas y estáticas. La calidad
eminente de la literatura hispana debe de marcar las bases canónicas, no viceversa.
R . E . L . P
16
pregunta:
dónde está the no
license, fly by noche
taquerías, tex-mex buffet
piratas hawked by
chicas en
mini-faldas.
y
mom?
still paranoid
nunca se queda
sentada
quier hacer
to-
do
o
como encuentro
el chisme de un paletero
corn en un vaso
y midnight
raspas?
respuesta:
¿quién sabe?
but stop by
la alameda and market
square.
tal vez encuentras
cacahuate japonés,
un gansito de chocolate
photos of Mexican
placas
pero aplácate
con las morenitas
U N F R O N T E R A P O C H O
19
Me descalzaste
escaldando mis pies con tu amargo afán,
voy oliendo como perra ciega
el humo de una tierra que no me verá volver.
Voy buscando desperdigada un techo que me acoja.
Me lapidas, me desgranas
y con asfalto cincelas
tu maldición en mi presencia invisible.
Mi lengua quedó atada a tu orilla
y ahí, pesada, la vas ahogando
con tu agrio idioma sectario.
Mi lengua se ha hecho de víbora,
bifurcada te leo firme, con mi acento residente:
“Todas las palabras se comprenden
en este amasijo de lenguas y verdades”
Listones de agua me pusiste,
hilos de agua para que muriera en tu orilla
Frontera, línea maldita
en tu suelo siembro mis hijos.
M I L E N G U A
R . E . L . P
18
3
17
and during lunch
in Milam Park
cierra tus ojos
y será como Reynosa,
español sin acentos
los carros alrededor
gritando tu nombre.
I . C