El Cero/Alejandro Quotes in Clap When You Land
To be from this barrio is to be made of this earth & clay:
dirt-packed, water-backed, third-world smacked:
they say, the soil beneath a country’s nail, they say.
I love my home. But it might be a sinkhole
trying to feast quicksand
mouth pried open; I hunger for stable ground,
somewhere else.
[…] Before I learned to fear him,
there was one memory that kept coming back,
the one I cannot shake even as I shake when he approaches:
Cero has never appeared young to me. Always this same
age, this same face. But he would come to school
to pick Emily up. & she would stop
everything she was doing & run to him, arms spread wide.
He would catch her, swinging her in circles. & I was jealous.
Jealous I didn’t have a consistent male figure like Cero in my
life.
If you are not from an island,
you cannot understand
what it means to be of water:
to learn to curve around the bend,
to learn to rise with rain,
to learn to quench an outside thirst
while all the while
you grow shallow
until there is not one drop
left for you.
I know this is what Tía does not say.
Sand & soil & sinew & smiles:
all bartered. & who reaps? Who eats?
Not us. Not me.
[…] & here we are: Tía like a bishop,
slashing her long machete. Mami, the knight with rims. My body
in front of my sister’s body: queens.
Papi, who I know is here too. He did
build that castle he always promised.
She grabs her purse & drives out.
There was so much I had left to say:
That maybe a bad husband can still be a good parent.
That maybe he tried to be the best he knew how to be.
That he hurt her got caught up there’s no excuse.
But he is not here. He is not here. We are all that’s left.
El Cero/Alejandro Quotes in Clap When You Land
To be from this barrio is to be made of this earth & clay:
dirt-packed, water-backed, third-world smacked:
they say, the soil beneath a country’s nail, they say.
I love my home. But it might be a sinkhole
trying to feast quicksand
mouth pried open; I hunger for stable ground,
somewhere else.
[…] Before I learned to fear him,
there was one memory that kept coming back,
the one I cannot shake even as I shake when he approaches:
Cero has never appeared young to me. Always this same
age, this same face. But he would come to school
to pick Emily up. & she would stop
everything she was doing & run to him, arms spread wide.
He would catch her, swinging her in circles. & I was jealous.
Jealous I didn’t have a consistent male figure like Cero in my
life.
If you are not from an island,
you cannot understand
what it means to be of water:
to learn to curve around the bend,
to learn to rise with rain,
to learn to quench an outside thirst
while all the while
you grow shallow
until there is not one drop
left for you.
I know this is what Tía does not say.
Sand & soil & sinew & smiles:
all bartered. & who reaps? Who eats?
Not us. Not me.
[…] & here we are: Tía like a bishop,
slashing her long machete. Mami, the knight with rims. My body
in front of my sister’s body: queens.
Papi, who I know is here too. He did
build that castle he always promised.
She grabs her purse & drives out.
There was so much I had left to say:
That maybe a bad husband can still be a good parent.
That maybe he tried to be the best he knew how to be.
That he hurt her got caught up there’s no excuse.
But he is not here. He is not here. We are all that’s left.
