Cultural Strumpet
by Kevin A. González

You never really broke-up
with your high school girlfriend,
the hot nationalist-
her legs smooth as the flag,
her neck like the inside of a coconut.
Freshman year, you pressed sorostitutes
against the stained wallpaper of the frat,
& they all lugged beneath their skirts
the same grief vending-machine.
It was ( Read more... )

1999
by Kevin A. González

We were driving to your funeral
& our father was not crying
because he has a way
of tying ribbons around grief.
It was the year we learned
the piercing that prefaces the blood
holds the most delicate of darknesses.
Then it was the year we opened
all our faucets & waited for the sea
to bleed to death. Then it was the year
we set fire ( Read more... )