MARCH 14, 2024
no one sings
at the notaría.
i can even forget
to breathe.
but out there
in the world,
in the dirty world,
an old man is humming
near the front of his store:
flo-res ar-ti-fi-ci-al-es
currently listening to:
MARCH 13, 2024
our cat
hesitates between us,
held aloft
by your stare and mine;
our cat
shudders between absolutes,
plenitude and desolation;
can you be called
honest
even if you cannot lie?
one last rebuke,
a sigh,
she settles in
currently listening to:
MARCH 12, 2024
reading gloria susanaa esquivel's
contradeseo
my keyboard is typing extra a's
i painted a small planet with a renaault 4
on my wall this evening
aan illustration
by luis carlos barragán
but i colored it red
like the one my grandmother
owned
currently listening to:
MARCH 10, 2024
i turned 32 today
currently listening to:
MARCH 8, 2024
we made friends
once
with a dog
named "guaro,"
dead
town in sunlight,
flooded
town with the big white house.
were they drinking guaro —
the grown-ups —
on the night
of the scorpion
in the bathroom?
while my little cousins
pierced their own ears,
"sanitized"
with coca-cola?
¿qué quieres tomar?
currently listening to:
MARCH 6, 2024
a photo taken
by my cousin
it won a contest
we hung it on the wall today
a man trying to cross the street
in the rain
currently listening to:
MARCH 3, 2024
screenshot (above) from a video call
with mom
starring dweez the cat.
"when are you going to get a job?"
yesterday,
we visited my grandmother
and her sisters at the home;
they are planning their escape daily now;
to go back to "the room"
everyone i know
is terrified
of losing
their memory.
"whose kid are you?"
currently listening to:
MARCH 1, 2024
currently listening to: