Poetry
1.1 / LATINX / LATINIDAD

Three Poems

One single person is killed.

 

The oranges stood in witness
in the orchard,

were pressed the next morning
at Miguel’s frutería.

The nixtamal sat in the dark
rotting in tubs.

When the marigolds turned to dust
no one noticed.

 

 

Santa Vale, or The Townspeople Speak

 

la muchacha es hija de su abuelito

trabajaba en una de esas cantinillas de mala muerte

es un pinche desmadre lo que le pasó

básicamente su vida fue todo un problema

le metieron un fierro por allá

la abrieron como cuando agarras un pollo y lo trozas

le pasaron una troca por encima y la dejaron por muerta

la gente del pueblo no hizo nada

le decían La Vale

 

the girl’s father was also her grandfather

she worked in one of those seedy bars

it’s fucking chaos what happened to her

basically her whole life was a problem

they raped her with a metal rod

cut her open the way you would a chicken

they ran a truck over her and left her for dead

the townspeople did nothing

they called her La Vale

 

 

 

 

La Vale Speaks (I)

 

The first Christmas after I am gone, my mother poses for a picture next to a tree she’s strung lights on.  Not really a tree but a branch placed in a white plastic bucket and held tall with large rocks and rubble.  She grins her gummy, crooked teeth smile and when she does this all of the lines on her face river down to her neck.  Her grayed hair resists the grip of the tie at her nape. All of her life, her clothes have been worn by someone else; sometimes man, sometimes woman. And yet, she still wears the golden hoops I gave her on her 50th birthday.  Her eyes glimmer child-like, as if they’d ever had a reason to. She poses for the picture because someone has delivered a basket full of food, a gift donation from a family who lives in el Norte and whose brother was disappeared last year, kidnapped under the portales. They’re left wondering if the black pick-up that ran over my pelvis was the same one that took their brother. At least my mother had my body to bury.

 

_____

Hecha en México, Norma Liliana Valdez made her way to California in her mother’s pregnant belly. A member of the Macondo Writers Workshop and a CantoMundo fellow, her work appears in The Rumpus, Aster(ix) Journal, and the anthology Latinas: Struggles & Protests in 21st Century USA, among others. Her chapbook, Preparing the Body, is forthcoming from YesYes Books.

 


1.1 / LATINX / LATINIDAD

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