Angela de Hoyos
EDlTOR: Juan Cárdenas
CONTRIBUTING EDITOR:
Rafael Castillo
PUBLISHER:
M&A Publications
Writers, Poets, Visual Art
THIS ISSUE:
Roberto Bruce Campbell
Patricia Gonzales
Enedina Vasquez
Lorna Dee Cervantes
Tino Villanueva
Daniel H. Pino
Trino Aceves Navarro
Leonardo Carrillo
Leo Griep-Ruiz
Bryce Milligan
Charles Richard Carlisle
Mary Cárdenas
Mireya Robles
Rosanna Rodriguez
Martha Saenz
Tita Valencia
Jesse de Mares
Cecilio García-Camarillo
Lorraine Kulibert Reidner
Walter Hansen
Fernando Curiel
El Moshe
Reyes Cárdenas

INDEX Huehuetitlan Index This is issue #9 Next issue

 

SAVING THE POET
FROM EXTINCTION
The measure of dreams is how I see.
Fantasy with no pages turned
is how I look.
Everyone is you. No one has a name.
Each face can be picked up,
and turned over.
I'm hungry. I want to eat the world.
My hands are on fire.
I'll settle for you.
Hidden in madness. Hidden away.
When you call me.
When you reach for me.
When I dread your finger touch
like needles upon my arm
drawing quickly a flow of emotion.
Treat me like borrowed money.
Don't waste me away.
Run to the future. I'll be along.
The color of roses will be my song.
When I'm awake. When I walk.

When I get around
each step is the swing to the anvil
truing the metal, finding the edge.
When I move.
When I fall against you.
When the rain comes down
everything I say empties of reason.
I distill myself. I rub your spoon.
Place me on the other side of you.
Press me to your flesh.
Put me in a secret place.


—Jesse de Mares©
San Antonio, Texas

 

Please understand that we share
this planet with other entities.
Support the wildlife around you.
Learn more about them, respect them.

 

CALCETINES EMBOTELLADOS


Ceclio Garcla-Camarillo
pasan las palabras
como peine sobre el zacate
regresan un ruido que pasa por mi barba
eres areña en un sueño
un despertar como metal
tu espíritu disfrazado de silencio
aprieta violentamente tu sexo
y le saca quejidos desesperados
como deseos de morir
color gris como monedas gastadas
tus lomascomo jorobas llenas de punzadas
también son una garganta con árboles
donde se acumulan páginas
como pájaros
como calcetines
como poemas en una botella


—Cecilio Garcia-Camarillo ©
Albuquerque, New Mexico
(from the book Calcetines Embotellados)