#notallluchadors
1983
Abandoned Kiddie Pool
Border Patrol
Eight Blind Dates Later
Independence Day
Las Salinas
Ode to the White Lady Who Asked to Touch My Hair
Plan B
Proof
Reconfiguration
Snake in a Can
Symptoms
The Tall Grass and the Long Night
Tornado
Trade
Turning Out (The First Year)
We’ve Taken Care of Everything
Plan B
Len Lawson
for Big nose
B for Broad, regal
olfactory elegance
It runs in the family
A mountain erupting
from fountains of family loins
Grandma gene-fed Daddy with it
and he spit it out onto my oily face
It covered my whole body
B for that Big Bird beak! they said I have
My feathers are a darker shade
No, no, not B for Buzzard
Call me Black Falcon
Tears slide smooth down the slope of it
Rippling in pain as the nostrils flare
I am one big snout
I root, I grunt, I snort
They said
Hey! Tell us what it smells like in China with that thing!
Maybe I can dig there with it
Pack a bag and swim through the earth
led by this golden shovel
Past the family loins from which it was spawned
B for the blood bones, the scars from whips
Past singed psyches from too many games of the dozens
Too many laughs at our own people
Too many crabs in barrels
Gawks at big noses and big lips
B for Big butts and thighs
B for Big brown eyes
B for Blistering tears running raw on jagged brown faces
Streaming from ravaged fountains
even hers
She walks out of the closed room slowly
head down
shuffling her tear-stained feet
big brown eyes low
then straight at me
B for boy
He would’ve had your nose she moans
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B for Broad, regal
olfactory elegance
It runs in the family
A mountain erupting
from fountains of family loins
Grandma gene-fed Daddy with it
and he spit it out onto my oily face
It covered my whole body
B for that Big Bird beak! they said I have
My feathers are a darker shade
No, no, not B for Buzzard
Call me Black Falcon
Tears slide smooth down the slope of it
Rippling in pain as the nostrils flare
I am one big snout
I root, I grunt, I snort
They said
Hey! Tell us what it smells like in China with that thing!
Maybe I can dig there with it
Pack a bag and swim through the earth
led by this golden shovel
Past the family loins from which it was spawned
B for the blood bones, the scars from whips
Past singed psyches from too many games of the dozens
Too many laughs at our own people
Too many crabs in barrels
Gawks at big noses and big lips
B for Big butts and thighs
B for Big brown eyes
B for Blistering tears running raw on jagged brown faces
Streaming from ravaged fountains
even hers
She walks out of the closed room slowly
head down
shuffling her tear-stained feet
big brown eyes low
then straight at me
B for boy
He would’ve had your nose she moans