fall 2018 / Poetry 2018 / volume 49

Experience—Celine Robles

Any time you step out on the road, you see
Brown faces mixing into the brown land.
Caballeros sit on their porches and stray
Dogs walk around scavenging for food, and no, not
Everyone cares about those dogs.

For eleven years, I’d go to church to walk around the
Gaudy festival right after the priest said
His last sermon of the night.
If it wasn’t for the vendors and the rides, I would’ve
Just stayed home and taken a nap.

Killing a bull wasn’t the worst thing to see as a kid, but
Learning how much blood a bull has was worse.
Many people think ranchers are cold-blooded killers, yet I’ve
Never seen someone care for his children like mi abuelo cares for his cattle.

Of course, you can’t forget about the
Parties with abuela and her friends. You can’t
Question her cheating ways, but she’s
Really generous with her pesos
So you tend to forget that she’s cheating in lotería.

Though, I haven’t been to Mexico in a decade. I’ve been
Under too much stress, unsurprisingly. I’ve read about the
Violence with drug cartels and racist bigots,
Who’ve been growing bolder, sadly.
Xenophobic assholes are keeping me away from family, and I
Yearn that I can soon go back to
Zacatecas y Guadalajara to see mi abuelos again.

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