inherited trauma
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First Utterance
No more.No more.No more,fathers.No more,smoke.No moreboyswhoreturn.No morehousesonfire.No morepoetry.I wantedto catchthe smokebeforeit escapedthroughthe window.I thoughtit wantedthe sky.Help me.Help me findmy song.My armswere too smallfor windows.Too smallfor clouds.Too smallfor father.No more.I rememberthe barsfirst.Thenlight.Thensmoke.Everything elsecamelater.To catchthe smokepastthe barsof the little bed.To catchwhat lookedlikecloudsforming.To believecloudsenteredthroughwindows.To stretchan armtoo smallfor distance.To thinkthe smokebelongedto my fatherbefore memoryknewthe wordabsence.No more.Can dovesbe dovesstill?Hold melikea…
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These are the Rules of the House
We don’t say sorry.May I go outside to play hideand seek?The stars are dark outside.No puedes. No aguantes.You are not allowed to ask.Once my mother said:you don’t know how to live alone.She may as well havetold me I cannot survivewithout a man.And is it so bad?May I come with you,dear brother, please.I want to learn…
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en el cafetín with my ghost body
Themes: Love // Silence // Desire // Ghosts // Queerness // Bilingual en el cafetín with my ghost bodyi ran into the graying mother by chance,sixty and unafraid on her birthday.she remembered me from work. i didn’t—already a ghost in my own body.her daughter passed drinks of the hourlike blessings.she recalled surviving men who loved…
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i am ruin // mi mansión
Themes: labor, inherited trauma, survival, desire, intimacy, bilingual i am ruini wake in a king-sized bed, four pillows deep enough to sink under cold to the touch i like it that waylike evening rum slow and burning left alone long enough,this is a bed where i could be wrecked by past present future lovers i…
Luis E. Santos 