A Letter to Jeanine Cummins | Una Carta a Jeanine Cummins

Dear Jeanine Cummins, We hear occasional sarcastic comments about “the drug lords in Mexico,” or “all of the murders” in Colombia, and at first they were just that--sarcastic and insensitive comments.  I was vaguely aware of the violence and terror rampant throughout Mexico and Central America, but blind to the reality of the migrants’ world--watching … Sigue leyendo A Letter to Jeanine Cummins | Una Carta a Jeanine Cummins

La primavera

El castillo de Cinderella florece con la juventud  y la belleza alegre, como las flores frescas de la primavera. // Cinderella’s castle blooms with joyful youth and beauty, like the fresh flowers of spring.

Ode al Reloj/Ode to a Clock

Un reloj, Uno círculo,  Dos manos, Doce horas,  Sesenta minutos,   La vida está cosida    A cada tictac  Nuestros horarios  Son la infraestructura  De números estructurados   Cuenta cado momento Mientras nos guarda a todos en orden  Aunque un reloj  No nos guarda en el momento  Sino trabaja para sacarnos de ellos    Los momentos … Sigue leyendo Ode al Reloj/Ode to a Clock

Oda a una manopla perdida/Ode to a Lost Mitten

Oda a una manopla perdida ¿Cuántas semanas han pasado ya desde que comenzaste a agarrar el sol en la palma? Y ¿cuántas mañanas te has despertado cubierta por mil estrellas caídas? Y ¿cuántos nidos ahora adornas, un poco de lana robada, escondida entre los palitos? ¡O manopla perdida de febrero! te encontré, solita, entre el … Sigue leyendo Oda a una manopla perdida/Ode to a Lost Mitten

Cosas que traería con mi

Cosas que traería con mi si tuviera que salir de mi casa Things that I would bring with me (if i had to leave my home)

Letters About Literature

Dear Unknown Author, I love the poem Beowulf with the entirety of my heart. Two months ago, my eleventh grade English teacher introduced me to this fascinating story, and while I did not know it at the time, it has impacted me in a way that nothing else could. Every day after class, I felt … Sigue leyendo Letters About Literature

Letter to Milan Kundera

Dear Mr. Kundera, I have had an affinity for finding tight metaphors since I was little. That might seem like a bizarre way to describe a literary device, but hear me out. A tight metaphor sneaks into a situation, providing some wry coincidence that aligns something conceptually. It returns again and again, wiggling back into … Sigue leyendo Letter to Milan Kundera

Summer Love in Spanish…my identity

Nacho at 16 years old in 1987, Spain I slapped him.  Hard.  We were standing on a beach in Alicante, Spain and he stared incredulously at me, stammering something I didn’t understand.  As I recovered from my own brazen act and he continued to beseech me to listen, I remained speechless.  In all honesty, I … Sigue leyendo Summer Love in Spanish…my identity