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Apr 232013
 

by Andres Montoya

 

poem, Spanish Venacular

the stars

tonight

smile

sadness

 

and

a woman

walks

alone on the streets

mumbling secrets

about

bricks

and poverty.

 

 

of course,

omar is lecturing

the yerbas

and nopales

about the giddy giggle

of despair

 

and

 

i am left

to figure

out splinters

and their long coats

of blood.

 

miguel is still dead

but some-

 

how

i know

an onion

protested

the executioner’s

buckteeth.

 

some                              how

the stars are talking

about hopes and clouds.