Wednesday, December 24, 2008

scenes from chicago

My guess? Maths. She's thinking about some maths.

Dancing. It's great for the complexion.

My heart spilled all over the floor.

Something is missing. Reckon it's you.

This is why empathy.

Good ol' Chuck

Traditional Thanksgiving Hoagie Dip, i.e., a dip rendered from hoagie

Me - you

photographs from k.fitz, 2008

Sunday, December 14, 2008

love letter for diana

my mama, oh my root stock - you is my gravity.

when i write it is in your language, and i speak ever more in your voice.
i have your eyes. your silly. your stubborn will.
god of good things willing, i will grow to have your infinite heart.

you, who carried me into and through this world, continue to shape and illuminate it before me.

your little bird, always.


Corrido (if she hummed it)

She sang to me
in murmurs-
hymns that I alone
could carry:

your life recklessly will happen
si amas sin vergüenza – recuerda,
si debes,
debes llorar sin temor.

Your heart is yours alone to bear.

Deja quemar el mundo en ti—
Have you strength to sift through ashes?

Mijita, we are blessed
to drift through valleys

como viento

como ecos
contra paredes
de montañas
we call men.

Nunca anclas,
We are dust, my love…

We rise
and spread
vivimos en fuego—
Mere silhouettes of discontent,
felled in legions to foreign dunes.

Mi leona,
scathed beauty,
-such fierce skin, what velvet robes-
humbled at their feet

Like herds and castaways before, she broke
and fed the earth.

Es la vida.
We struggle because we must.
says my mother whose mouth I have forgotten,

Do not
-I beg, my love –
forget these hands that have always held you.