VOLUME V

Editor's Note

Afallingapple.

Thefruit’sverticalpathshowsNewtonthatgravityistheforceof attractionbetweentwoobjects,

andhistheorychangestheworld.

Off inamythicalgarden,humanityenactsitsfirstattempttoperpetuatesinandillusion.We

cannevergohomeagain.

IntheforestnearAltdorf,WilliamTelltransformstheconceptof literaryherowhenheaims

hisarrowandstrikescleartothefruit’scoresittingonhisson’shead.

Centurieslaterasucculentbitefromanapplewasalittlegirl’sfirsttasteof freedominher

newhomeinMiami.

Changeinallitsforms---scientific,spiritual,literary,personal---sparksrevolutionsof prog-

ress,sometimestriumphant,sometimestragic,leavinghumanitysuddenlyvulnerable.Forbetteror

worse,changeultimatelybringsaboutpartialortotaltransformation.

Momentsof changeareaconstantaroundus,outsideof us,andwithinus,experiencedday

today,minutetominute.Fromthemostminusculecelltothemostabstractthought,thismetamor-

phicphysicalandspiritualtripstretchesouttothehiddenfeelings,beliefs,ideologies,andattitudesof

everyhumanbeing.Intheend,itmarksthemomentwhentheworldandhumanityaccept,without

selfishness,theinevitablestepintotheunknown.

Inthisfifthissueof CaféCulturaourthemewasthetiltingpointinaperson’slife.Poets,

narrators,painters,andphotographersproducedremarkableworksunravelingtheirpastandpres-

ent.TheHialeahCampusstudentstoldtheirstoriesof transformationwhichwehavecapturedas

NewEndings/OldBeginnings.Studentsalsodocumentedtiltingpointsinthelifeof ourcommunity,

whicharefeaturedinourDVD.

Eachturnof apageopensintothemomentwhenalifeturnsandweareredefined---be-

yondanystrokeof luck,of anydistanttreeoranyapple.Liketheonethatlittlegirlbituponarriving

tothenewcityand,throughthatsweetnectar,discoveredherlifehadchanged.

Sometimesthemostimportantchoicewehaveistotakeabite.

ContentsPOETRYPlunge/ElizabethFernandez 8

Tempting Red/RaulBenitez 16

Strange Fruit/NerysTorralbas 29

The Epilogue of Caliban/MacDinneen 35

Cupido y sus Quehaceres/DanielAlvarez 36

Parting Nicks/LeslieAlfonso 44

Devota a la Polarizacion/EstelaGarcia 47

My Prison/OrlandoMayeta 60

Winter’s Echoes/MacDinneen 67

Mrs. Brady’s Finishing School/NerysTorralbas 70

Chow/RaulBenitez 78

Lap/ElizabethFernandez 81

The Pale Cruel Mother/GreisyDelgado 84

Hourglass/FrankPellegrino 87

Hollow Seconds/MacDinneen 88

FICTION27 Hours Before Nathaniel Baker Became 620315/NerysTorralbas 11

Mal de los Nervios/LeslieAlfonso 12

Bite/MacDinneen 26

White Flower /OrlandoMayeta 39

Martyrdom Pleasure/MichaelSanchez 41

In Lieu/ElizabethFernandez 54

La Oficina /NerysTorralbas 58

Lila/DanielPerez 62

NON FICTIONPaces/RosendodeVicente 18

Restavek /FernandeJourdain 32

Redemption Road /FilibertoSilveira 50

Nostoi /DevoraPerez 82

PLAYSPlace Holder/ElizabethFernandez 20

Pater Nostrum/LeslieAlfonso 68

Bullshit /AnaCordero 72

ART/PHOTOGRAPHYThe Mattel Doctrine/Sadiel“Speedy”Ruiz 9

Vandalism/JorgeCura 10

Tangent/AlejandroVeliz 14

Necessities/FrankPellegrino 19

Alien, Society/Sadiel“Speedy”Ruiz 24,25

House of Mirrors/FrankPellegrino 27

Remember to Die/AlejandroVeliz 28

Rudimental/DevoraPerez 31

Plastique/FrankPellegrino 34

Tempus Fugit/Sadiel“Speedy”Ruiz 37

Tunnel Vision/RosendoDeVicente 40

Tu Mirada/JorgeCura 42

States of Matter/AlejandroVeliz 45

Fissures /GeorgeCalonge 46

Vision of the Universe, Tribe of Fire/DevoraPerez 48,49

Picaresque/MichealSanchez 52,53

Velocity/Sadiel“Speedy”Ruiz 55

Lady Day/AniGonzalez 57

Al Andar/AlejandroVeliz 61

Distractions/FrankPellegrino 64

Juxtaposition/AniGonzalez 66

Porn/JorgeCura 71

Malecon, Waterfall/DayronVillaverde 76,77

These are not the rides you are looking for/Sadiel“Speedy”Ruiz 79

Transition/DevoraPerez 86

Words are Wind /AlejandroPerez 89

NEW ENDINGS / OLD BEGINNINGS 17,30,38,43,56,80,85

8

Plunge

Handslikeanchors

Stitchtogethertears

Eyessniff outtruth

Nosedrinksinmyfear

Handslikewater

Waterlikesilk

Correlationalwaysequalscausation

Leavesfallbackintotrees

Shesettlesintotheseaanddrownsforever

SpecialSnowflakeneverknows

Butshewill

Timealwaysends!

Me cago en la hora

Ringkissesmycheek

Anchorslikefists

ELIZABETH FERNANDEZ

9

SADIEL “SPEEDY“ RUIZTHE MATTEL DOCTRINE

10

JORGE CURAVANDALISM

11

Heleftthewaterrunningandletittakeitscoursetothebasement.Whilethecarpetsoaked,

heopenedthekitchencabinetsandflungeverythingtothefloor.Thrashedtheclockonthetable.

Shreddedtheflowers,theframeof theholytrinity,andanimageof Jesusholdingagoldendove.

Threwthecandlesagainstthewall.Flippedthesofaacrosstherunningwater.Wipedthebloodoff

hishandsonawhitesheetandplaceditontheothersofa.Helaidthepillowsaroundthesheet.

Blastedthelightbulbsdelicatelywithadiningroomchair,leavingjustone.Thensmashedthechair

toacornerof theroomandpositionedtherestof themneatlyaroundthediningtable.Tookoff his

shirt.Closedhiseyesandtookadeepbreath.Scratchedhisnarrowchestwithhisnailsseveraltimes.

GrabbedhisSpanishfoldingknifeandheadedslowlytothedoor.Justbesidethedoorthatledto

thegarden,watchingtheblushingorchidsflashwiththeapproachingheadlightsonthedriveway,he

waitedpatiently,thenecessarytimetomakehisdreamareality.

27 Hours before Nathaniel Baker became 620315

NERYS TORRALBAS

12

Thediningroomfloorwasanoceanof

brokenglassandporcelain.Lilatreadedlightly

throughthewarzonethatwasherhome.Each

stepthroughthedebrisbroughtoddcrunch-

ingsounds,andshecouldnothelpbutwince.

Shebentdownandgingerlypickedupajagged

pieceof abrokenplateandwonderedwhereher

mothercouldbe.Shewalkedtowardthekitchen

trashcanandliftedthelid,butasquicklyasit

opened,itclosed.Lilagrabbedapieceof paper

towelandcoveredthebrokenpiecetenderly,

thenstoreditinadrawer,behindthenotepad

andpens.Sheplacedheremptyhandonher

chestandtriedtosootheherthumpingheart.

Lilahoppedthroughthediningroom

andupthestairsinsearchof hermother.She

sprintedthroughthesecondfloorinaflurry

of slammeddoorsandaimlessyellinguntilshe

finallyfoundher.Shewasinherbathroom,

percheduponthemarblecounterwithaPeople’s

magazineinherhand.Herheadshotup,andher

eyesstaredrightthroughLilaforafewseconds

beforethesparkof recognitionlitthem.

“Mami,areyouokay?”

Hermotherslidoff thebathroomcoun-

terwithagracethatremindedLilaof howshe

oncewas.ShegrabbedLila’sfacebetweenher

handsandplacedakissonhernose.

“Of course,nena.Ijustdroppedafew

things.Iwillpickthemuplater.”

“It’sokay.I’llgetit.Andrewwillbehere

soon.Hecanhelpme.”

Hermothersmiledandsatonthe

counteragainandcontinuedherreading.There,

intheharshlightingof thebathroom,Lilacould

seewhathermotheroncewas.Herfacewasstill

beautiful,butlinesandshadowsnowmarredit,

likecracksonabrokendoll.Shehadnotbeen

thesamesinceRonniedied.

Lila’ssightshiftedtothecold,shinytile

floor,andsheclosedhereyes.Hermother’sface

wasimprintedinhermind.Shetriednottolook

backassheleftthebathroom,butof courseit

wasuseless.Hermotheralwayscommandedat-

tention,evenbeforetheaccident.

Lilameanderedthroughthehalland

wonderedif sheshouldtakesomepicturesoff

thewalls.Maybethen,maybethenhermother

wouldletgo.Shestoppeddirectlyinfrontof

aphotographtakenataFourthof JulyBBQ.

Therehewas.Tall,blondeandsunburnt.Their

motherhadyelledatthemforanhour,scream-

ingaboutmelanomaorsomething.Ronniehad

laughed.Liladraggedherself awayfromthepic-

Mal De Los NerviosLESLIE ALFONSO

13

ture,downthestairsandintothediningroom.

Andrewwasalreadysweepingupmostof the

messwithheavystrokes.Hestoppedandlooked

ather.

“Whathappenednow?”

“Shedroppedsomethings.”

“Sureshedid.“

“She’sjustmal de los nervios.”

“Yeah,andCastroisjustmisunder-

stood.”

Shesnatchedthebroomfromhishand.

“Youlooklikeanidiotwhenyoulaughatyour

owndumbassjokes,youknow?Whatyoushould

bedoingisspendingmoretimewithmami.She

needsus.”

“Whatmamineedsisaheavydoseof

Valium.”

Theirfather’sstudydoorsqueaked

open,andtheybothcranedtheirheadstosee

if hewouldactuallycomeout.Hedid,andhis

eyeswereasswollenandredastheywerethe

dayafterRonnie’saccident.Walkingovertohis

stunnedchildren,hekissedLila’scheekandAn-

drew’sheadandsethiscellphoneonthekitchen

counter.Andrewrestedahandontheirfather’s

back,thewaymendoinawkwardsituations.

LilaandAndrewthrewquestioninglooksateach

otheruntilAndrewbrokethesilence.

“What’shappening,pa?”

Theirfatherrepliedwithoutlookingat

eitherof them.

“ItalkedtoDr.Marquez.Hewantsto

seeif wecantakeyourmombyhisofficesome-

time.Hethinkshecanhelpher.”

Lila’sfaceturnedtoworrywhileAn-

drew’sturnedtohope.Shesteppedcloserto

theirfatherandtriedtodefendtheirmotherin

theonlywayshecould.

“Pa,she’sok.Imean,sheneedstime.

Youguysaretoohardonher.”

“Hard?I’mtoohard?”Herfather

rippedhisglassesoff hisface.

Shewalkedbackandsatonachair,con-

vincedthatherfather’smindwasset.

“Whenareyoutakingher?”

“Iwashopingrightnow.”

Theirfatherroseandmadehisway

throughthehouseuntilhefoundtheirmother.

Theybothwatchedtheirfatherleadherthrough

thefrontdoor,seatherintothecaranddriveoff.

Theyheardacardoorslamshutduring

thenight.Andrewracedtothedoorandopened

itwithavigorLilathoughthehadlostmonths

ago.Theirmotherwalkedtowardsthemwith

14

ALEJANDRO VELIZTANGENT

15

theirfather’sarmaroundherwaist.Hiseyes

focusedonherface.Hergazedidnotleavethe

palmtrees’shadowsontheirdriveway.Upon

reachingthedoor,theirfatherhandedAndrew

abag,whichhethrewtoLila.Sheheardthe

softclacksthebagmadewhenshegrabbeditin

midairandcouldn’thelpbutfeelrelievedthat

Andrewmayhavebeenright.

“Mami,areyouok?”

Herquestionfellondeaf ears.Her

mother,focusingonthemarbletiles,didnot

acknowledgeherortheirexistence.Clutchingthe

bagtoherstomach,shelookedatAndrew,who

wasfrozenstillwithhishandonthedoorknob.

“Shejustneedsalittlesleep,guys,”their

fathersaid.

“I’lltakehertobed,

then.”Lila’shandreached

forhermother’sinvain.Her

fathernudgedhertowardsLila,andshefinally

grabbedhold.Evenassheledherupthesteps

andthroughthedarkenedhallways,hermother

didnotnoticethemissingframesonthewalls.

Lilatookhertothesideof herparents’bed,and

Lila’smotherdroppedontopof thebedding,all

gracegone.Lilareachedherhandinsidethebag,

pulledouttheorangeplasticbottlesandplaced

themonthenightstand.Shemadeherwaytothe

othersideof thebedandmimickedhermother’s

actions.Sherolledoverandlaidherheadonher

mother’schest.Theslowbeatingheartunderher

earbroughtasuddensadnessandtearsescaped

hereyes.

“Whydon’tyouturnonthelight,nena?”

“Becauseyouneedtosleep,mami.”

Hermotherstaredatherthroughthe

darkness,herhandscaressingherhead,and

playedwithherhairjustlikesheusedtowhen

shewasyounger.Lila’smothersmiledthrough

herdrug-inducedhaze.Atthat

moment,Lilasensedsunlighton

herskinjustlikethatFourthof

July,smelledthesandandsalty

watersof thebeachestheyoncevisited,saw

thefallingsnowfromtheirtriptoNewYork

twoChristmasesago.Lilaputherheadonher

mother’sbreastandwonderedwhyshardsalways

hadtobediscarded.

broken

16

Tempting Red

Itsredtemptationslowlykillsme.PULLDOWNhastensit.

Itssquareshapemimicsthestopsandturnsof thought.

Wanttopull

Obligationnotprank.

Mustpull

Likethesweetgloryof poppingbubblerap.

Needtopull

Likepeelingthathalf-rippedfadedsticker.

Can’tpull

Fearof thefivethousanddollarfine!

Theterrorof fiveannualsentences!

Wishtopull

Forthestrobetoflickerandgiveslightmerrimenttothesewhite

Wallsandceilings.

Formywonderif theyallwillevacuate

Orsimplyignore.They’llrunforthelatterprobably.

Abletopullisareasonsatisfyingenough

Todoso.

Butabitof mischief neverhurt

Thoughitcanburn.

Damnyou,CerberusPyrotronics,

Howyourredsquaredsirenenticesme.

RAUL BENITEZ

IbecameanewpersonthefirsttimethatIwroteapoem.AsIlookedoutsidemy

window,Iwitnessedmyparentshidingallthepiecesof furnitureintoaUHAUL

truck.Destinybegantoconcernme,andIwastakenoverbymyemotions.Since

thenI’vefoundcomfortinapenandapaper,whichallowmetoexpressmy

feelings.Ibecameapoet.

2005

18

ThewalkthroughcustomsatMiami

Internationalwascumbersomeatbest.Ourfirst

impressionof Americawasunsophisticatedand

boorish,greetedlikeunwelcomedvisitorstoa

privateparty.Thebludgeoningof emotionaltur-

moilrunningthroughtheheadof aneight-year

oldwasenoughtoestablishavividmemory.The

anxietywasintensifiedaswewalkedtowardsthe

immigrationofficer.

“Businessorpleasure?”

“Neither.”

“Whydoyouonlyhaveonebagif

there’stwoof you?”

“Itravellight.”

“Howlongisyourvisit?”

“Permanent.”

Theagentlookedup,eyescrossedand

mouthhalf open,stoppedinhertracksbythe

answer.Myfatherlookeddownatmeandtold

metositdown.Iwatchedasheexplainedour

situationtotheagent.

Sometimepassed,andasecondagent

came.Thisonewaswearingasuitandseemed

tohavesometypeof authority.Hetookustoan

officeandbeganhisroundsof interrogations.

Theexperienceservedasaswitchof disillusion-

mentthathequicklyturnedon.Myperception

of Americawasalteredbytheimpersonalnature

of animmigrationagent.Yearslater,Idiscovered

thathewasonceaCubancitizenwhohelda

similarcustomspositioninJoseMartiInterna-

tionalAirport.Atthatmomentintimehewas

anagentof shattereddreams.

Aftersixhoursof senselessquestions

like“isthisyourfather?”andanswerssuch

as“no,heisyours,”wewerereleasedtomy

mother’sarms.Wewentfromasmallroomof

ambulantliesandsuspendedbetrayalstoaplace

of unconditionalsincerityanddeep-rootedde-

pendability.

PacesROSENDO DE VICENTE

19

FRANK PELLEGRINONECESSITIES

20

Characters:

DAMIENismediumheightandmuscular,earlytwenties

VERAistraditionallypretty,earlytwenties

Setting:

Inlineatapackedcoffeehouse

(DAMIEN is behind VERA in line, both look annoyed)

VERA: Allthesegoddamnhipstersarecrowdingaperfectlyrespectable

establishment.

DAMIEN: Ithoughtyouhatedcoffeeshopsingeneral.

VERA: One,youdon’tknowme.Two,whywouldIsaytomeethereif Ididn’t?

DAMIEN: Youseemmiserableisall.

VERA: It’sthestenchof thriftshopscarvesandBonIverrecordsemanat-

ingfromallthesephilosophyandtheatermajors.

DAMIEN: What’ssobadaboutphilosophymajors?

VERA: Thefactthattheydeludethemselvesintothinkingthattheyhave

afuture.Havingadegreeinphilosophyisaboutasusefulas

havingadegreeinballoonanimalmaking.

DAMIEN: That’sprettyharsh.

VERA: Buttrue.

DAMIEN: SodidyouthinkaboutwhatIsaidearlier?

VERA: Aboutcoffeeshops?

DAMIEN: No.AboutproposingtoAlyssa.Ithoughtthat’swhatyouinvitedmehere

for.

VERA: (VERA sighs heavily)Don’tdoit.

Place HolderELIZABETH FERNANDEZ

21

DAMIEN: (surprised)Whynot?

VERA: Idon’tlikeyou.

DAMIEN: WhatdoesthathavetodowithAlyssa?

VERA: Everything.

DAMIEN: Iknowyoudon’tlikeme,butyoucan’tpossiblyhatemethatmuch.

VERA: Idon’thateyou,persay.Ihatewhatyourepresent.

DAMIEN: (insulted) WhatdoIrepresent?

VERA: Alyssa’sloveof mediocrity.

DAMIEN: I’msorry?

VERA: Sheonlylikesyoubecauseyou’rethebestshe’shadsofar.

DAMIEN: Howisthatnotagoodthing?

VERA: Becauseshe’scomparingyoutomenwho’vehither,spitather,andcalledher

thingsIrefusetosayinpublic.

DAMIEN: Iloveher,youknow.Shemakesmehappy.

VERA: That’stheproblem.Isn’tthatsupposedtobemutual?

DAMIEN: She’stoldmeshelovesme,thatbeingwithmemakesherhappy.

VERA: I’mguessingshe’stoldyoushelikesyourfriendstoo?

(DAMIEN is silent)

VERA: She’sonlytryingtobenice.

DAMIEN: You’rewrong.Iseeherwithmyfriends;shelaughsandjokesaround.

She’stoldmeshelikesthem.

VERA: She’salsotoldmethattheyhavethecombinedIQof dirt.

DAMIEN: Idon’tbelieveyou.

VERA: Of courseyoudon’t.

DAMIEN: If allof thisweretrue,you’dnevertellme.You’dneverbetrayhertrust

likethat.

VERA: Drastictimescallfordrasticmeasures.

DAMIEN: Whyareyousoagainstmeproposing?

VERA: Becauseshe’dsayyes.

22

DAMIEN: Whydon’tyouwanthertobehappy?

VERA: BecauseIknowthatshe’llbehappywhenyoupropose,she’llhappywhen

you’rebothstandingatthealtar,shemightevenbehappywhenyouhave

yourfirstkid….Butsometimedowntheline,she’sgoingtowakeup

andhateherlife.She’sgonnarolloverseeyourassfastasleep,

snoringbesideher,andshe’sgoingtocry.Alyssaisgoingtowonder

howsheendedupthere,inalifesheknewsheneverwanted.

DAMIEN: Youaresuchabitch,Vera.Youreallyare.Nothingyou’resayingisbecause

youcareabouther.Everythingoutof yourmouthareyourownpathetic

fears.

VERA: Pathetic?Letmetellyouaboutpathetic.YouknowIhateyou.Igooutof

mywaytoavoidyou…Doyouknowhowharditistoavoidyourbest

friend’sboyfriendforfouryears?Reallyhard.Andknowing

this,youstillcallmeandaskmehowyoushouldpropose,whatyou

shouldsay,whatyoushoulddo…If youknewhersowellandloved

hersomuch,howcomeyoucan’tcomeupwithallof thatyourself,huh?If

youknowherheartlikeyousayyoudo,allthisshouldcomeeasy.

DAMIEN: She’sacomplicatedperson,youknowthat.

VERA: No,sheisn’t.

DAMIEN: Yes,sheis.Sheflip-flops,shelikesthingsshehatesandshehatesthingsshe

likes.Nothingisevergoodenough,butsheneverhasexpectations.

Onedayshe’stellingmehowmuchof adoucheMickeyRourkeisandthe

nextshe’stellingmehowfunnyhecanbe.Shesayssheonlylikesintelligent

movies,yetAnchormanisanationaltreasure.Ittakesheragoodhourto

decidebetweenaMcChickenandacheeseburgeratMcDonalds.

VERA: ShelikesBigMacs…

DAMIEN: That’snotthepoint!

23

VERA: That’sexactlythepoint!Yousayshehatesthingsshelikesandlikesthings

shehates.Whydon’tyouputyourself inthatcategory?Whycan’tyouseethat

shecaresmoreaboutyouknowingshelikesBigMac’sthanthefactthatI

hateyou?IcancallyouanimbeciletillI’mblueinthefaceanditstilldoesn’t

getthroughtoher.Butthemomentyouforgetshelikessteameddumplings,

notfriedandit’sadaggartoherheart.Shecaresaboutthelittlethings,notthe

bigthings.That’swhyshecanforgetyou’reanassholewhenyoubuyherlunch.

DAMIEN: I’llneverknowhowshecancareaboutyousomuch.

VERA: BecauseI’llneverbullshither.Shecansmellitonpeopleandthat’swhyshedoesn’t

likeanyone.

DAMIEN: Shelikesme.Shelovesme.

VERA: It’stemporarymentalparalysisandI’llbethereforherwhenshesnapsoutof

it.(She finally reaches the front of the line).I’lltakeamediumcaramelfrap,extra

caramel.

DAMIEN: I’llhavealarge,sameashers.Putthemonthesamebill.

VERA: Don’t.

DAMIEN: Alyssawouldkillmeif sheknewIdidn’t.

College-wide winner, One-Act PlayLeague for Innovation Contest 2012

Sadiel “Speedy“ Ruiz

ALIEN

SOCIETY

26

Hestaredatthepapers,awearylookon

hisface.Hisheadthrobbed;thenumbersandthe

wordswerestartingtojumbletogether.Helaid

thepapersdownandrubbedhishandsoverhis

face.Heslumpedbackinhischair.Therewasa

rumblingsound.Heputhishandsonhisstom-

ach.

Thepictureonthecornerof hisdesk

caughthiseye.Asmiling,brown-hairedwoman

washoldingupanewbornchild.Hewasn’tin

thepicture;he’dtakenithimself.Hecontinued

tostareatthephoto.Hisstomachstillfeltempty.

“Icanhearyouallthewaydownthe

hall,”saidavoicethatheknewwell.Heswiveled

hischairaroundtofaceher.Ablonde-haired

womanwasstaringathimwithgreeneyesanda

tightsmile.“Here,”shewentrightnexttohim

andbentslightlyover,herhairbrushingagainst

hischeek.Hefeltaslighttingle.Sheplacedan

appleonhisdeskrightnexttothephotograph.

Rightingherself,shewalkedbacktowardtheway

shehadcomeintothecubicle.Almostout,she

turnedback,stillsmiling:“Ihopethatcanhold

youover,untillunch.”

Hestared,foramoment,attheempty

spacewheresheusedtobe.Thenheslowly

turnedaroundbacktothephotograph.The

smiling,brown-hairedwomanwasstillholding

thebaby,butsomethingwasdifferentnow.Her

eyes.Theywereglaringrightathim.Hisstomach

rumbledagain.

Heextendedhishandforward,nearthe

apple,butinsteadheleanedpastit,towardsthe

photograph.Hegrabbeditinthetop-rightcor-

ner.Hepaused.Then,quietly,slowly,helowered

thepictureframeuntilitwasonitsback.

Withthatsamehand,hepickedupthe

apple.Hespunitaround.Itwasaperfect,flaw-

less,delicious-lookingfruit.Hisemptinesscried

onelasttime.Hechompeddown.

BiteMAC DINNEEN

27

FRANK PELLEGRINOHOUSE OF MIRRORS

28

ALEJANDRO VELIZREMEMBER TO DIE

29

Strange Fruit

Peelorangelikeskin.Fingertips

Tracethevalleysand

Hillsof thebitterrind.

Citrustongue

Sticky.

PlungeteethintoPulp.

Withschoolboy

Lust.Sweetjuice

Divingdownchin.Divine

Distillednectar.

Gloriousinfusionof

Bodyandfruit.

NERYS TORRALBAS

Thefirsttimehehitme,IknewthenthatIwaswillingtoputupwithanything.

Istilllovedhim.

2007

31

DEVORA PEREZRUDIMENTAL

32

Yolandewasdaddy’slittlegirl.Wherever

hewent,shewasonhisheellikethestrapsona

pairof sandals.Hewasafarmerwhoworked

fromsunrisetosunset.Theirfamilylivedona

remoteislandoutsidePort-au-PrincecalledLa

Gonave.Theylivedinasmalltwo-bedroom

woodenhouseonthecoast.Thesmallhome

hadnowindows,onlyraggedcutoutsdrapedby

handsewncurtainsflutteringinthebreeze,and

wassurroundedbyamakeshiftfence.

Yolandewastenyearsoldandtheoldest

of fourchildren.Herfatherwouldtellherthat

sheremindedhimsomuchof hisdeadmother.

Yolandehadthemostbeautifuldark-skinned

complexionasif herskinhadbeenkissedbythe

sun.Shehadhighcheekbones,asignaturefea-

tureof herHaitianheritage.

Yolandelovedgoingtothefieldswith

herfather.Hereyeslitupwheneverherfather

wouldallowhertoaccompanyhim.Theywalked

alongtheshore,thecoldwaterticklingtheirfeet,

ontheirwaytowhattheirfathercalledtheJardin

delaPaix.

“Whydoyoucallitthat,papa?”the

youngchildaskedherfather.

Hereplied,“WhenIcomehere,Ifeel

thepresenceof God.Heisallowingmetopro-

videformyfamilyandthatgivesmepeace.”

Thegardenwasbeautiful.Ithadevery

vegetableandtuberyoucouldimagine.They

handpickedfreshgreenplantains,yams,corn

andfreshspices.Thatnighthermothercooked

herfavoritedish:beef stewmixedwithokraand

boiledplantain.

Fouryearslater,duringthesummer

of 1963,Yolande’sfathersuddenlydied.Her

mothercouldnolongeraffordtosupportall

fourchildren.Beingtheoldest,Yolandehadto

movewithherAuntCharity.

Shequicklylearnedthatherlifewould

change.Insteadof goingtoschoolinthemorn-

ing,Yolandehadtogotothenearbyrivertoget

waterforAuntCharity’sfamilytoshower.She

wouldalsohavetogetthekidsreadyforschool

andhelppreparemeals.WheneverYolandedid

notmeetherAuntCharity’sexpectations,she

wouldbesubjectedtophysicalandverbalabuse.

Forexample,oneof AuntCharity’sfavorite

punishmentswastohaveYolandekneelonabed

of rocksforaboutforty-fiveminutestoanhour.

AuntCharitywouldcallhernameslike“stupid”

and“useless.”Ithadbeenthreeyearssincethe

RestavekFERNANDE JOURDAIN

33

deathof herfather.Shemissedhimsobadly

thatsometimesshewouldcryherself tosleep.

Yolanderesentedhermotherforallowingher

tobemistreated.Hermotherwouldoftenstop

bytobringhergifts,butmaterialpossessions

couldnotfixherbrokenspirit.Yolandelearned

tocopewiththerealitiesof herlife.Shefeltthat

Godwantedhertobearestavek,“achildslave.”

OnedayayoungmannamedIssac

approachedher.Yolandewasusedtobeinghit

on,butthreatsof being

kickedoutif sheever

becamepregnant,didn’t

allowhertoeverdate.

WherewouldIgo?Sheoftenthoughttoherself.

ButIssacwasdifferent.Hewastheonly

personwhoshowedherhowtoloveand

belovedbesideherfather.Issacwastheonly

personthewouldcelebrateherbirthday.He

wouldwritesongsforYolandeandbuygifts.He

wouldtellanyonewhowouldlisten,thathewas

inlovewithYolande.Sheranawaywithhimand

helaterbroughtYolandetotheUnitedStatesof

America.Yolandehadtwobeautifuldaughters,

Fernande,andmysisterMarie.Mymotherstillto

thisdaytalksaboutbeingarestavek.

WhenIreadthestorytomymother,she

rememberedthehorriblefeelingof beingaway

fromhermother.Mymothertoldmethatshe

carriedthatresentmentforoverforty-fiveyears.

Iaskedmymotherhowhersituationaffected

herasanadult.

Mymothertoldme,beingtheoneto

leaveherhomeandbecomearestavek,a

childslave,madeherfeelunloved,likeherlife

wouldforeverbefilledwithhardship.

Mymotherwasex-

tremelyoverwhelmed

bythememoriesof her

story.Shetoldmethat

asarestavek,youoftendon’thaveavoice.You

can’tcomplainaboutfeelingtired,havingacold.

Arestavek,islikeaforgottenone.Mymother

isstoryteller;herwordspaintedvisualportraits

of hermemoriesof beinga“forgottenone.”I

believethatmystoryjustscratchedthesurface

of thehorribletreatmentachildslavereceives.

Todaytherearemore300,000child

slavesinHaiti.Itisanepidemicacrosstheworld

aswell.Mymotherislivingproof thatGodhas

biggerplansthanwhatourmindscouldever

imagine.

handsewn

34

FRANK PELLEGRINOPLASTIQUE

35

They’vesailedoff andgoneaway,

Nowit’smineonthisgreatday,

Iamnowlordof thisFairIsle,

Of everytreeandsandypile.

Inolongerliveinfear,

Of cruelProspero’smockingsneer,

Heandhiskinhavealldeparted,

AndthoughI’mhardlybroken-hearted,

Hethrewawayhismagic,though,

Whatthatmeansis--Idon’tknow,

Howtoharnessallthepower,

Thatheusedtomakemecower,

Andsoasrulersomethinglacks,

IcannotmatchdearSycorax.

Ah,mydam!Youknewthespell,

ThatfirstenchantedAriel.

Wherehaveheandhiskindgone?

Thisisle’sfreefromspirits’song.

Iamalone;frompowerfree.

Butatlast,thekingisme.

The Epilogue of Caliban

MAC DINNEEN

36

DANIEL ALVAREZ

Cupido y sus Quehaceres

Tantohancambiadolostiemposhoyendía

quehastaenelministeriodelamor

lleganlosrecortessalariales

comoundespertarcadadía.

Todoesafectadodebidoalasituacióneconómicamundial

YaeltiempodedicadoalAmorylaAmistad

Sehareducidodiminutamente

Acomonoshabíancontadonuestrospadres.

Cadadíamenoshoras,malsalarioysinseguro

YaCupidoestápensandoencambiardeprofesión,

Lomismolimpiaunbaño,arreglaunpisoovuelaunavión,

Laeconomíayaestámalahastaenelmáslejanorincón.

Lasflechasdestinadasalamorcadadíacuestanmás

Limitandoafortunadosenelciclodelamor.

Quétrabajotandifícil,quéapretadasituación

Yalashorassonbienpocasparalacomunióndelamor.

Menosflechas,menoshorasagravanlasituación,

Porquecasiyanohaytiempoparaescogerconrazón.

Lasflechassonalazar,conapuroysinmedidas,

Sinlevantarlamiradateflechanelcorazón.

Nohayreglasenlasparejas,nisexoymenospudor,

Yalasmezclassonabiertassinbarrerasdetensión.

Sehaformadounrevolico,nadieentiendedondeestá,

Solotenganbienpresentequeelamoreslibertad.

37

SADIEL “SPEEDY“ RUIZTEMPUS FUGIT

Iwasarrestedat17.Mylifechanged.Atthatmoment,Ihadanepiphany.The

changewasdramaticbecauseoneof theguysIgotarrestedwithhadalargeamountof

MDMAandwaslaterdeportedandmurderedinhiscountryof Nicaragua.

2007

39

ItwasOctoberinthoseyearswhen,

inordertoliveinCuba,onedidnotneedto

askGodfordollarsorchavitos.Itwasasunny

afternoon.Kidswereplayingintheschool

courtyard.Theteachersaid,“Tomorroweachof

youmustcomewithflowers;we’llcelebratethe

heroCamiloCienfuegos’deathanotheryear.”

Lazaroraisedhishand,“Teacher,wherecouldI

getflowers?”Theyoungteacheranswered,“You

couldtakeonefromsomeneighbor’sgarden.”

ThatmorningatLazaro’sroom,light

camethroughabrokenwindow,splashingarain-

bowof coloronthewall.Lazarowokeuphappy.

Hethoughtof nothingbutarrivingtoschool

withflowers.Hiseyesclosed,andhepictureda

beautifulwhiteorchid.Heknewwheretofind

one.

Nextdoor,DoñaEvelia’sgardenswelled

withbeautifulroses.Buttheprizewashertwo

whiteorchids,whichshedisplayedinaChinese

porcelainpot.

Hesnuckouthisbackdoorandslid

throughagapinthefence.Heslinkedthrough

thelabyrinthof rosesandcrepttowardthe

orchids.Hepulledthetallestflowerfromthe

Chinesepotandthenheheardthesoundof

laughternearby.Hefrozeforamoment;his

heartsank.Thenheboltedoutof theyard,his

legsalmostbucklingunderneathhim.

Thechildrenmarchedbythemalecón

habanero clutchingwhiteflowers.Lazarogazed

uponhisorchid;hethoughtittobethemost

beautiful.Thewavessplashedagainsttherocks.

Hewatchedtheplayof thewatercomealive

withfantasticshapes.Theteachergavethesignal.

WhowasCamilo?hethought.Lazaroreleased

hisflowerovertheseawall;itlandedgentlyon

thesurface.Hestaredatthewatersoclearthat

eventhesmallestpebblecouldbedistinctlyseen

atthebottom.Helostsightof hisorchidamong

alltheotherflowersthatbegantogounder.

White FlowerORLANDO MAYETA

40

ROSENDO DE VICENTETUNNEL VISION

41

Thepastyeye-boogerholdingmy

eyelashesshut,sluggishlycracksanddullytears

intoflakesasmyeyesbegintoopen.Thepull

of hairsaddstothepaininsidemyskull,an

unwantedefforttooperatemyeyelids.Through

thepartingslits,stinginglightquicklyshutsthem

back.Theexceedinglyslowopeningof myeyes

isagainagonizing.Iwinceatmovingtheflesh

coveringmyeyeballs;thepainparalyzesmy

nearlyexhaustedbody.Thethoughtof mybody

barelymovingfuckinghurts!Iaskmyself,“Is

thiswhatchildbirthfeelslike?”Mybraincramps

atposingthequestion.Noresponse.Isitlikea

zombieforsometimeasmyheartpulsesneedle

pricksinsideoutthrougheverypore.Disturbing-

ly,Imeditateonnothingbuttheacutepiercing

intensityasitlessensperiodicallyuntilitbecomes

thefaintoozingof blood.Ifeelmybodyasa

weatheredshell,slightlyaccustomedtothepres-

entabuse.

Withouttoomuchdiscord,myeyelids

slightlyseparatetotesttheresponseof blurred

refraction.Ialmostforgetthepain.Whenmy

visionstartstofocus,myeyesseelinesthatform

aroom.IamsurprisedathowwellI’veadjusted

tothepain,soIcontinuetheseparationof my

eyelidsuntiltheystophalfway.Thedroopeye-

shapeI’vedevelopedslowlyovertheyearstakes

hold.Ideaserraticallyshiftinsidemymind.Dim

gray-yellowraysof lightanglediagonallythrough

awindowmidwayupawall.Morelightshines

throughtheadjacentwindow.Thelightillumi-

natesgrayspecksdriftinglifelessthroughoutthe

room,creatingadrearysenseof rankmoisture.

Smokythoughtsform:AmIsittingslouched

andadoorisontheleft?Thethoughtsscrapeas

glassshardsinablender.

Whentheanguishfromthinkingsub-

sides,dullgrayshadowsaroundtheroomreveal

thepeelingwalls.Bugs,garbage,andhuman

excrementsaturatetheperverseserenityof the

moment.Imovemyeyesdownward,ignoring

thepain.Roachesof differentsizesoverlapeach

otherwhilecrawlingoverme.Asyringewith

itsneedlestillsticksoutof myleftarm.Half

themixtureisstillinsidethesyringe.Iwatch

thebloodfrommyarmunemotionallydancing

withtheneedle.Theblooddoesn’tmixwiththe

drug.Iknowwhatwillhappenif Idepressthe

plunger,flushingawaythepromisesof living.I

haveanewfoundstrengthtofinishtheinjection.

Myarmmoves.Istarttodepresstheplunger.

Heatimmediatelyrushesthroughmybody.Ifeel

strengthreturningasIcontinuepressing.Finally

whenIpressalltheway,Iwelcometheblack

void.Eyelidsslowlyclose.Bodyrelaxes.Vision

hazes.Colorsbecomedarkershadesof grayas

theyfinallybecomeblack,andIsinkbackinto

nothingness.

Martyrdom PleasureMICHAEL SANCHEZ

42

JORGE CURATU MIRADA

Iletgoof thedoortothepsychiatrist’soffice.Mymomheldmyhand,andI

remembereverythingoutsidebeingwhiteandlight.Ican’ttellyouif therewasany

wind.Mymother’shandwassweaty,andthepearlsaroundherneckremindedme

of pulledteeth.Herphonerang.“Yes?Well,no.Thedoctorcouldn’ttelluswhatis

wrongwithher.”Ilistenedandpointeduptoabsolutelynothing.

1998

44

Parting NicksLESLIE ALFONSO

Bedsheets

Undermyback

Scratchandtearatskin

Sickeningwords

Whisperedinmyear

Onanyotheroccasion

Wouldbeexactlywhat

Iliketohear.

Thisisnothim.

Fabricrips.

Andelasticsnaps

Tormentinghands

Clawateveryinchof me.

Abloodyterrorseizesmyheart

Andspreadsonthesheets.

Thepainissuperfluous

Butremainsoverlooked.

Stolendignity,though,

Cannotbeignored.

Ashriekrises

Anddiesinmythroat.

45

ALEJANDRO VELIZSTATES OF MATTER

46

GEORGE CALONGEFISSURES

47

QuisecreerenelAmor.

Sembréelversoderaízasusorillas.

Vendavaldepétalos.

Elyinyelyangenlasimbólicadinastía

delalaylaflecha.

QuisecreerenelAmor.

Compiléascensosycaídas

enofrendaalafilosofíadedosenuno

yenlosconfinesdelinviernoterrenal

larosafuedádivayabrigo.

QuisecreerenelAmor.

Experimentéamboslados

delaenergíaenelcenitdeunbeso

(arcoyliraenparadójicaalianza,

devotosalapolarización).

QuisecreerenelAmor.

Vivíunalunaentodaslasfechas

quecifrólaarañaenelecuablelaberinto,

comoofrendaydesafío

aléxododesoles.

QuisecreerenelAmor,

entrecambiosdeestaciones,

conlaperentoriasinfoníadelasalondras

yelverboderodillas

deespaldaalaluz.

Devota a la Polarizacion

QuisecreerenelAmor;

yplegadaalénfasisdeundogma,

enelqueelhorizontemeseguía,

fuitentacióndelafrodisíacotentáculo

queredimealimposible.

QuisecreerenelAmor.

Burléelegodelacentoenlasagudas,

acertandoprólogoyepílogodelmito,

enpretensióndelaprofecía

deunahistoriaporcontar.

QuisecreerenelAmor,

enlaauténticadispersióndelpolen

enlosconductosdelaire

ylaenajenadasimetríadelosopuestos

enellienzosurrealista.

QuisecreerenelAmor

yunamemoriaesalegoría;

tienecuelloypatasdeflamenco;

picoteaenelagua

corazonesverdes.

ESTELA GARCIA`

Devora Perez

VISION OF THE UNIVERSE

TRIBE OF FIRE

50

Redemption RoadFILIBERTO SILVEIRA

IwouldcelebrateholidayslikeValen-

tine’sDaywhenIwasdatingeventhoughit

wasataboosubject.Growingupinafamilyof

JehovahWitnesses,theynevercelebratedwhat

theycalled“paganholidays.”Ineverembraced

myparents’religion,butatthesametimeInever

celebratedanyof theholidaysintheirpresence.

MyfathertookithardthatIwouldnotembrace

hisreligion;insteadIranaway.Iransohard,so

fast,Iranrightintoprison.

ItwasearlythatmorningwhenTatiand

Ihadstartedourworkoutinthecage.Wewere

anhourintoourroutinewhentheguardwe

calledMiniMe,afemaleguardwhostoodfive

feettallwithatemperanddispositionof aGo-

rilla,approachedus.Shelookedatmeandsaid

Ihadtogoseethechaplain.Myworldwarped

intoslowmotionandangerwelledupinsideme.

Irememberherspeakingtome,butIwasno

longerlistening.Thesamethoughtkeptinvading

mymind:myfatherwhohadcancerhadpassed

away.

TatihuggedmebeforeIwasescorted

outof thecagetothewalkway.Theendless

chainof fencesandbarbwirenowseemedto

openupasif oncommandforme.Noonein

theentirefacilityeverwantstoseethechaplain

duringtheday.Seeinghimduringthedaymeans

badnews,andformeitwasexactlywhatIhad

fearedsincethedayIwalkedintothatinstitution.

Myescortknewthistoo,andIwasnothurried

orspokentoduringmywalk.

Ifinallyarrivedatthechaplain’soffice,

andIwasletinwithnoescort,anotherbadsign.

Thechaplainsatbehindhisdeskandlookedat

mewiththeeyesof afatherwhoonlywished

hecouldtakehisson’spainaway.Hetoldmeto

takeaseatandtocallmymother.Mymindwas

racing.Ihadn’tevennoticedIhaddialedthe

numberhomeandwasbroughtoutof myfog

whenIheardmymother’svoiceontheother

end.

Mymotherwascryingwhenshepicked

upthephone,andthatwasallIneededtohear

toconfirmthatthistrulywastheworstdayof

mylife.Icried…theonlytimeagrownmanin

prisonisallowedtocrywithoutanyonethinking

he’sgonesoft.Shetoldmethatmyfatherhad

51

lookedupatherafterhisbreakfastthatmorning,

smiled,thenclosedhiseyes,andhewasgone.

Myfatherwasgone,andIcouldn’tgohomefor

thefuneral.Mymothermademepromisenotto

blameGodormyself.

Iwastakenbacktomycellimmediately

afterthephonecall.Isatfeelingregretandanger

fornotbeingthereformyfatherattheendof

hislife.Iwouldneverbeabletosay,I’msorry.I

wouldneverseehimsmileatme,hugme,laugh

withme.

Sixyearslaterwhilewritingthisand

readingittomymother,sheaskedmewhyIhad

leftsomuchoutof mystory.

Ireallydidnotknowwhatshe

meantuntilafterhearingthe

detailedaccountsfrommy

mother.Forthepastsixyears,Ihadburiedthe

accountsof thatday.ItoldmymotherIfeltthe

importanceof thestorywastoremembermy

father.ShetoldmeIwaswrong.Shetoldmethe

importanceof thestoryistohealmybroken

heartandforgivemyself.Shesaid,“Iknowyou

haveneverstoppedthinkingaboutyourfather,

butyouhaveneverforgivenyourself.Your

fatheralwayslovedyou.Hewasproudthatyou

werehisson.Itdidn’tmatteraboutthechoices

youmade,rightorwrong.Evenwhenyouwere

analcoholicandendedupinprison,henever

stoppedlovingyou.Allheeverwantedforyou

wastobehappywithnoregrets.”Iknownow

herwordstobetrue.

Ihadchosennottorememberthelast

momentsof myfather’slife,hidingfromthe

painof guiltandshame.TodayIforgivemyself

fornotbeingtherethedayhepassedaway.

WhenIfirststartedthejourneyof

writingthisstory,thelastthing

Ithoughtwouldhappenwas

therealizationthatI’mnotthe

manIusedtobe,butIhave

becomethemanmyfatherwantedmetobe.

TodayInolongerdrink,andeventhoughIstill

donotembracemyfather’sreligion,Idoaccept

Godintomylife.Ibelievehehasforgivenme.

TodayIforgivemyself,andIamproudtobemy

father’sson.

warped

52

PicaresqueMICHAEL SANCHEZ

53

54

In Lieu

“Tick-tockgotheclock,”Adamsaidto

himself.

“Uhhuh.Sureitdoessweetie,”mum-

bledNatalie.

Sheshovedaclientcomplaintform

awayoutof sightbeneathastackof papersand

leanedbackwithaheavysigh.Natalierubbed

hertemplesandshuthereyesbriefly,tryingto

enjoythesoothinghumof electricitywhich

flowedfreelythroughtheseaof cubicles.Noth-

ingshedidcouldkeepherpreoccupiedenough.

Allthecallsshehadtomake,thereportsshehad

tofillout,andmeetingstosetuptookabackseat

tothatgnawingquestioninhermind.Wouldhe

know?

Natalieeyedtheclockatthebottom

of hercomputerscreen,andthecornersof her

mouthtwitched.Itwas10:00am.Anyminute

now.

“Iwannagohome,”mutteredAdam.

HeglancedupatNatalie,andshecouldn’thelp

butfeelsorryfortheboredlittleboy.Helay

comfortablyonhisstomachnearherfeet,biting

histoplipabsent-mindedly.Heclutchedagreen

crayonandscribbledawkwardshapesoverthe

thickblacklinesof adinosaurcoloringpage.

“ButIthoughtyouwereexcitedtosee

mommy’sjob?”shesaid.

Adamignoredthequestionandreturned

tocoloring.Thereweremuchmorepertinent

thingsintheworldthanherquestion,likeT-

Rexes,apparently.

Afamiliarvoicesounded,andNatalie

instantlystraightenedinherseat.Shetugged

attheendof herblouseandsnatchedbackthe

forgottenformfromherdesk.Nataliecould

hearherheartpoundingasshelookednervously

tothelittleboyontheground.

“Sothat’sthelittleman?”saidanami-

ablevoice.Robhalf-leanedontheentranceof

thecubicleandtossedsomefilesontoNatalie’s

desk.Outof habithegingerlynibbledonthe

skinof histoplip.

“Yep.”Itwasallshecouldmuster.

Adam,whoupuntilthatpointhadbeen

preoccupiedwithcoloring,wasstandingand

watchingthetwoadultsintently,tryingtograsp

thegistof theconversation.

“It’sfunny;hedoesn’tlookmuchlike

you.Thenagain,Nat,youdon’tlooklikeanyone

inyourfamilyeitherif Irememberright,”said

Rob.

“Nope.”

“Ibethelookslikeyourhusband.”

Rob’seyescrinkledashesmiled,andhereached

overtoruffleAdam’shair.

“Hedoes.”

Hedidn’t.

ELIZABETH FERNANDEZ

55

SADIEL “SPEEDY“ RUIZVELOCITY

2011Seeingyourightbeforemyeyesgettinghandcuffedandtakenintoacopcar.

Youweremyonlysupportleftonthisplanet,andnowIhavetovisityou

behindaglasswindowwithalimitedamountof timetotalk.Ireallywish

youhadmadedifferentchoices.Imissyou.

57

ANI GONZALEZLADY DAY

58

Cuandoeldirectorsaliódelaoficina,la

puertasemantuvounossegundosenmovimien-

tohaciaadentroyhaciaafuera,enunlentoe

interminablemugirdelosgoznesdefalsoacero

oxidado.

-Bueno,aloquevamos.

Elmuchachocolocólascarpetassobre

lamesa.

-Estossonlosinformesquepiden,y

estaslascuentasquesedebencerrar.

-Déjalosahí,despuéslosreviso,-dijola

mujersinapartarlavistadelaventana.

Elmuchachocaminóalrededordela

mesatratandodecolocarseentrelamiradaper-

didaylaventanailuminadaalfondo.

-¿Nooístenada?Acabadedecirquees

urgente,quenadiesemuevedeaquíhastaqueno

estécompleto.

-Porfavor,¿podríasapartarteunpoco?

Elsequedóobservandoalamujerque

semovíadeunladoaotrodetraselescritorio.

-Esunmaldíaparatodos,Natalia,

tampocohayqueexagerarcomoenlospartes

meteorológicos.

Seinclinóunpocohaciaellabajandoel

tono.

-Siguelloviendoyeltráficoesterrible.

Ellamostróunrostroserio,quizástriste.

-Mividasehavueltouninfierno,

Manuel.Almenosabrelosojos.

-Tranquila,Diosvivedelotrolado,mi

amor.

Ellaobservóalrededorconexpresión

asustada.

Elmuchachohizoungestodecansancio

yregresóasusilladelotroladodelescritorio.

Abriócadacarpetacolocandoengruposdife-

renteslashojasdeunmismocolor.Ellavolvióla

vistaalaventanaahoranubladaporlatardede

afuerayelairemuyfriodelaoficina.

-Mientrasestéaquívoyacumplirbien

conmitrabajo.Tengocasaquepagar,tengo

hijos,tengocuentasydeudas.

-Tienesmujerquemantener.-Lodijosin

apenasmoverloslabios.

-Tengoqueseguiradelante.-Elmucha-

chorespiróprofundo.-Noesmiculpa.El

mundoesdemasiadoredondoparanorodar.

La OficinaNERYS TORRALBAS

59

-Hacetiempoestaríasdenuevoembar-

radodegrasaymugreenalgúntallerporahí,que

esdondetemerecesestar.

Elmuchacholevantólacabezaconel

rostropálidoyloslabiostemblorosos.

-Voyaestar,yvoyavivirtranquilo.En

cuantotermineelmesmevoy.

-Puescreoquesí,quedebeshacerlo.

Elmuchachotomódosgruposdepa-

pelesyfueaponerlosfrenteaella.

-Estossonlosdeltrimestre.Yome

encargodelosdemás.

Lamujerquedómirándoloalosojos.

-Pormípuedestirarlosalabasura,ya

acabeporhoy.

Elmuchachosintióasuespaldaunlargo

ytristesilenciodeoficina.

-Tepidoquenolohagas,porfavor.

-Quémeimportanlosinformesniel

dineroniloqueélpiense.Nisiquieratengoque

seguirenlamentira,enunfinalserálomismo

aquíoenlacasa.

Elmuchachomirócuidadosoalfondo

delaoficinayluegofueasentarsesobreuna

esquinadelescritorio.

-Noteconvieneeso,piensabien.

Ellaalzólavistapocoapocohaciaél.

Teníalosojoshúmedos,lamiradaapagada,el

cerquillocolgandodisparejosobrelafrenteher-

mosa.

-Nohaynadapeorquetenerquear-

repentirsedehaberhechoalgoqueunosiempre

quisohacer.

Elmuchacholaviólevantarse,arreglarla

blusa,tomarelbolso.

Pensóendetenerlaperosentíamiedo.

-Nathy,alomejorpodemosarreglarlo,

ponteenmilugar.

Lamujerlomiróalosojos.

-Voyaponermeenelmío,Manuel.Es

loúnicoquepuedohacerpormí.

Caminódespaciohacialapuerta.

-Peroduermetranquilo,consuertevay

puedesseguireneserincónuntiempomás,-dijo

antesdedesaparecerconelruidoquejumbroso

delmetalherido.

60

WhenIwasaboy,Iwastreatedassuchan

evilman,becauseonlyreprehensiblebeings

weresenttoprison.Mancan’tseehisownface

withoutamirror;likewise

Icouldthinkof nothingbutsinkdeeplyintothoughts.

WhenIwasaboy,lifebecamepregnantwithconflictinginsights.

Hereandthereshadow

thoughtsinvadedmykingdom,likeillusionsapproaching

therealmof darkness,deathvictorious.

Icouldthinkof nothingbuthatefuldesires.

WhenIwasaboy,freedomburnedunder

descendingcliffs,solemnmoments,

forthoserocksdecaylikeeternal

truth;barefeelingsstooduponthesummit.

Icouldharbornothingbutevildesires.

WhenIwasaboy,thesunrosesublime,

majestic,abovethosedressedolive-green

burnedbyeyesfilledwithfieryhate.Onehandattempted

torestoreharmonyaccordingtonaturallaws.

Icouldthinkof nothingbutlifeasthevictor.

My PrisonORLANDO MAYETA

61

ALEJANDRO VELIZAL ANDAR

62

LilaDANIEL PEREZ

Thecoachseparatesthetwogridlocked

players.“Enough!”barksthecoach.

“Dirtyrat.Hecan’tplay,”saysJim,the

seniorstartinglinebacker.Herubshisbattered

knees.

“Youbitchmorethanmybabysister,”

retortsMike.Heisthesophomorewhotook

overtherunningbackpositionafterthestarter

ditchedtheteamforamoreathleticallypresti-

giousschool.

“Quitthepettyfighting,let’sgetbackto

ourscrimmage,”growlsthecoach.

Hisfaceandshirtaredrenchedwith

sweat.Players,coaches,assistants,evenbystand-

ers,seemtosweatprofuselyunderthesun’s

blisteringrays.Theplayersreturntotheiroriginal

formations.Everyoneisdirty.Someareeven

bleeding.Theyarepositioned,crooked,shaky,

jittery,onthevergeof collapsing.Itisthefinal

playof thetwo-hourpractice.

“Everyonewantstotakeasweetbreak.

Executeitproperly,andy’allcanleave,”saysthe

coach.Thewordsarelikemusictotheearsof

theplayerswhowanttoshowerandheadhome.

Butastheteam’squarterbackyellsoutincompre-

hensibleorders,JimhashiseyessetonMichael,

hisonlytarget.

“Hike!”yellsthequarterback.Everyone

movesinsync,Jimrunningtowardsthebulky

linemenlikeanangryram.Hespotsagapmade

forMichael,whojustreceivedtheball.The

twoareoncourseforacollision.Aresound-

ingboomfromthecontactwasaudible.Michael

rushesforpositivegain..Jimliesontheground

likeacrushedinsect.Everyoneiscontent,happy.

Practiceover.Timetogo.Jimgetsupdespite

thepainandobviousdefeat.Heseesasmallboy

withacapandearphones,probablythecoach’s

son.

“Everyone.Huddle,”growlsthecoach.

“Fantasticpractice,gentlemen.Thereisnodoubt

andnoexcusesfortonight’sgameagainstour

rival,St.PetersHigh.Wewillprevailandgetthat

win.Iexpectthebestfromeveryone.”Healso

adds,“Bytheway,greatperformance,Mike.You

showedusthetalentyouhaveandtheamazing

playsyouarecapableof making.”Hisgrowling

voicemakesitdifficulttodistinguishhismood,

andif itweren’tforthesmile,itwouldbehard

toknowwhetherthatisacomplimentornot.

Thecoachdisengagesthehuddle,and

everyonemarchesontothelockerroom,every-

oneexceptforthecoach’sformerfavorite,Jim.

Ashelimpstotheschool,thecoachcatchesup.

“Ineedtoseeyouinmyoffice.Ur-

gently,”Coachsays.Hethenrushesleavingthe

slowerJimbehind.Afterwhatfeelslikeamile’s

trek,Jimgetstothecoach’soffice,feelinglikea

63

workerwhomightreceivethepinkslip.

“Son,takeaseat,”saysCoach,sittingin

hisdesk.

“Isthereaproblem,Coach?”

Coachgrowledpitifully.“Ididn’tlike

whatIsawfromyouthisafternoon.Youplayed

slow,tooslow.Iconsideredbenchingyoufor

tonight’sgame,butwehavefewveteranslefton

thisteam,soIdecidednotto.Inadditiontoyour

slowspeed,lookslikeyou’realsodevelopinga

quicktemper.Thisisamakeorbreakgame,bust

yourass,orbustyourfuture,son.”

Jim,hiseyesstaringintonothing,steps

out.Hisburdenkeepsincreasing,liketheheat

insideanoven.

Hegoestohisfavoritelockerspot,

aplaceheheldthroughouthisentirestudent

footballcareer.Heopensupandseesallkinds

of trash:crumpledpaper,dirt,grass,bandages,

notes,apictureof hisex,acopyof The Old Man

and the Sea,andanoticeof failurefromhismath

class.Solemn,hesitsandponders,hislimbs

throbbingfromthearduouspracticehejust

completed.Hewonderswhyeveryoneistaking

ashowerif they’reonlygoingtobedousedina

mixtureof sweat,sod,andmaybebloodagain

tonight.Maybetheyjustwanttolookgoodin

thepictures.Jimnoticesacommotioninthe

corner.Mike,allbrashandpumped,stepsontop

of thebenchandyells,“Allyouplayasstandyour

groundtonight,doyourthingandpopheads,of-

fenseanddefense,thewinisours,aslongasyou

don’tplaylikethatslouch!”MikepointsatJim,

andthelockerroomchuckles.Jimstopspaying

attentiontoMike’sraucousspeechandgoesback

todressingupforthegame.

“Thatkidisreallyannoying,”saysTer-

relle,Jim’sclosefriendandfellowlinebacker.

“He’simmature,”Jimreplies.

“Winorlose,Ijustneedtogetmystats

andmakehighlightsfortherecruitingtapes.Hey,

Ibetterseeyoutakingcareof business,”Terrelle

says.

“Today,Mikewasgoingaftermyright

kneeduringpassingplays,andononeof them,

hishelmetbashedmyrightknee.I’mprettysure

somethinggotmessedupinsidethere,”Jimsays.

“Whydon’tyouseethetrainer?”

“Causehe’lltellcoachtositmeout,

andIgottaplaytonight,”Jimsays.“I’lljustwrap

somebandagesaroundmyknee.”

“Busishere.Go,”Coachbarks.The

excitedbunchgrabsalltheirequipmentandgoes

totheirtransportation.

Thebusarrivesattheirdestination.

Familiarsights:thearchaicstadium

wheretheirgrandfathersprobablyplayed,the

brightlights,theplethoraof colorfulandnoisy

64

FRANK PELLEGRINODISTRACTIONS

65

people,squawkingandshowingoff theirbright

schoolcolorsliketropicalbirdsduringmating

season.Thesameroutine:goinsidethefetid

lockerroom,reviewyourgameplan,focusand

staycalm,seethetrainerforabandageorashot

of “energy,”gettogetherwithyourteammates

andrushthefieldliketherunningof thebullsin

Pamplona.

“Guys,youshouldalreadyknowwhat

toexpect.Let’sendthisdamndaywithasweet

bow,boys,”growled

thecoach.

“Oh,andonemore

thing,alittlechange

uphere.Mike,Ineedyoutodotripleduty,play

specialteams,runningback,andlinebacker

alongsideTerrelle.”

“IgotTheChump’sspot,”barksMike,

jumpingupanddownlikeanelatedJackRussell

Terrier.

Jimisstonecoldpetrified;hiseyesswell

up,throatdries,hismindlost.

Thecoachtellshisteamtogetonthe

field.

HepassesbyJim.

“Heykiddo,putthishatonandwatch,”

hiscoachsaidashehandsJimahatwiththe

school’semblemon.

Thewhistleblows,andtheopposing

teamkicksoff theball.Mikecatchesthespiral-

ingballandstartswaltzingaroundthefield.He

glidesintotheopposingteam’sfield,andashe

triestoevadedefenders,theopposingkicker

clumsilyaimsforhislegand

twistsitawkwardly,likea

scrawnymanhangingonto

ahighpressurefirehose.A

largedistressfulscreechishollered.Theentire

teamencirclestheimmobilized,aggrievedplayer.

Teammatesassistinliftinghim,Mike’sface

showingagony.Hisfacialexpressionresembles

thatof achildaftergettingspanked.

Whiletheentireteamlookson,Jimsits

quietlywithasmile,rememberingthatwordhe

learnedinhisworldreligionclassthatspoke

aboutHinduandBuddhismearliertoday.

blistering

66

ANI GONZALEZJUXTAPOSITION

67

Winter's EchoesMAC DINNEEN

Ihaveneverreadapoemsadder,

Fornootherhaseverbeensoclear,

Aboutsosadandsadlytrueamatter,

ArticulatingthatwhichImostfear.

Forif it’sso,that“nothinggoldcanstay,”

AthoughtarisesthatIcan’tgetpast,

If evengolditself willfadetogrey,

Whatisthepointof thingsthatcannotlast?

WiththatinmindI,fearful,wonderof,

Thepointof allmywork,whichseemsfornaught,

If mylabor’sfruitwillwither,orlove,

If thoseloveddearwilldieandbeforgot.

Thetruthof lifeisallthingsmeltlikefrost,

Thentimeensuresthememoriesarelost.

after Robert Frost

Second PlaceFred Shaw Poetry Contest 2012

College-wide winner, PoetryLeague for Innovation Contest 2012

68

Pater NostrumLESLIE ALFONSO

Characters:

LIAMisinhisearlytwenties.

JONATHANisinhisthirties.

Setting:

Insideamovingcar

(One man is driving a car while his brother rides in the passenger’s seat)

LIAM: Ican’tbelievehegaveyouthecar!

JONATHAN: Hegaveyouthehouse.

LIAM: Ineverwantedthehouse.Iworkedwithhimforyearsonthiscar!

JONATHAN: YouandIbothworkedonthiscar.Don’tgetlikethis.He’sdeadandyou

haveahousetoyourname.Thehouseisworthmorethanthisgoddamn

caranyways.

LIAM: Youwantthehouse?Wecantrade,youknow?

JONTHAN: No.

LIAM: C’mon!Youwouldn’twanthishouse?!

JONATHAN: WhywouldI?Youdon’twantit.

LIAM: You’reolder!Please,givemethecarandtakethehouse.Youaregoingto

needitanyways,right?You’llstartafamilysoon.

JONATHAN: Ican’tbelieveyouaretalkingaboutthis!Dadhasn’tbeenintheground

foraweekandthisiswhatyou’rethinkingabout?Hisoldcar?

(Liam looks down at his hands and shrugs)

LIAM: Whatelsearewesupposedtotalkabout?

69

JONATHAN: Idon’tknow.Normalstuff.(Pause) How’sschoolgoing?

LIAM: School?!It’scollege.College.CollegeisfineIguess.IthinkI’ll

graduateinabouttwoyears.

JONATHAN: That’sgood.Areyoustayingintownaftergraduation?

LIAM: Yeah.WhywouldIneedtoleave?

JONATHAN: Togoexplore?Becomeindependent?Somethinglikethat?

LIAM: I’mindependentwhetherIstayorleave.Dadisgone,Jon.Nooneisleft

here.

JONATHAN: Yeahbut…(Pause)You’reright.Stayhere.

LIAM: Well,whatareyougoingtodowiththecar?

JONATHAN: Sellit?If Ican’tsellitwholeImightchopitandseeif thereareany

piecesIcansellbythemselves.

LIAM: Sellit?(Liam puts a hand on his forehead to wipe off the sweat that has collected there)

Of courseyouwould.

(Long pause)

LIAM: Yeah,well,dadneverthoughtyouweregoingtocomebackhomeyou

know?Notevenforhisfuneral.

JONATHAN: Heneverforgavemeforleaving,didhe?

LIAM: Apparentlyhedid.Heleftyouthecar.

JONATHAN: IsupposeheleftitsoIcanjustdrivebackoutof here,huh?

LIAM: Iwouldn’tputitpastthatoldbastard.

(Jonathan laughs and Liam rests his head on the side door window)

LIAM: You’renotgoingtosellthecar,areyou?

JONATHAN: Nah,thiscarmightoutliveusall.

70

Mrs. Brady's Finishing School

DrillSeed.Caged.

Tearout.Brand

It.

Shape

It.

Twist

It.

Force

It.Kiss

Gently.Shape

Smile.Drown

Desire.

Domesticate

It.Stitcheyes.

Sing

Toit.Feed

Lies.Stitchlips.

Curb

Appetite.Boxit.

Blameit.

Abandon

It.

Waittobedrilled.

NERYS TORRALBAS

71

JORGE CURAPORN

72

BullshitANA CORDERO

Characters:

VICTORisayoungcollegestudentfromTexas,hungoverfrompartyingthenightbefore.

MR.Cishisphysicsprofessor.

Setting:

Professor’soffice

VICTOR: MayIcomein,Mr.C?

MR.C: Ah,Victor.Howareyou?Whathappened?Wemissedyouthismorning.

VICTOR: Yes,that’sactuallywhatIwantedtotalktoyouabout.

MR.C: Well,comeonin,son;butbeforeyoubegin,IshouldhaveyouknowthatI

amallergictobullshit,sopleasesparemethelies.

VICTOR: (Chuckles)

MR.C: Sogoahead,son,tellme.Whydidyoumissthefinaltestthismorning?

VICTOR: Well,youseeMr.C,overtheweekendItookanunexpectedtripdownto

Miamitovisitmysickgrandmotherbecauseshewashospitalized,andI

couldn’tgetaflightbackhomeuntilthismorning.

MR.C: Isee.Butyouobviouslyhadaccesstoacomputer.

VICTOR: Yes,Idid,sir.

MR.C: Sowhydidn’tIreceiveanemail?

VICTOR: Umm…

73

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Iwouldhavesentone,sir,exceptthat...

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: DidyounotgettheoneIsentonSaturday?

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Imeantto,sir,Ijusthadalotonmymindwithmygrandmother’s

conditionandall.

MR.C: Howisshenow?

VICTOR: Notgreat.Iwouldhavestayedhadfinalsnotbeenthisweek.

MR.C: Whatwaswrongwithher?

VICTOR: Alzheimer’s?

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Alzheimer’s.

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Shehadaninfection.

MR.C: Ooh,whatkindof infection?

VCTOR: Uhh,areallybadone.

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Onhertoenail.Itwassobad…pusandbloodeverywhere.

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Onanincisionwound,itgotreallybad.

MR.C: Whatwastheincisionwoundfrom?

74

VICTOR: Fromarecentsurgery.

MR.C: Oh,that’sserious!Whatkindof surgerydidshegothrough?

VICTOR: Umm,anepisiotomyIbelieve.

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Umm,itwaslikea“something-otomy”

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Ahysterectomy

MR.C: Oh.Wow.

VICTOR: Yeah…

MR.C: SowhatdoyouproposewedonowVictor?

VICTOR: Wellsir,Iwashopingthatyouwouldallowmetocompletethefinal

exam,oranyotherassignmentof yourchoice,inordertomakeup

thegradeforthemissedexam.

MR.C: Okay.Sinceyouhadsuchahardweekend,IsupposeIcouldmakean

exceptionthistime.Haveaseatandwe’llgetstarted.Youwillhavean

hour.

VICTOR: Uhh.Yeah.Sure.

75

Mr.ChandsVictorasheetof paperandsetsatimerfor“anhour”(which

is really a minute).Victortakesthetest,sitsdown,andimmediatelybegins

workingonit.AfterthirtysecondsMr.Csneezes.

MR.C: AAH-CHOO!

VICTOR: Blessyou.

MR.C: Thankyou,Victor.

VICTOR: You’rewelcome,sir.

MR.C: Okay,Victor,time’sup.

VICTOR: Thankyousomuch,Mr.C(Hands over the test),andI’msorryforany

inconveniencethatthismayhavecausedforyou.

MR.C: Noworries.IwasyourageoncetooVictor(he says without looking up

at Victor).Makesureyoudrinkplentyof fluidsandtakesomeTylenol.(He looks up at

Victor)Runalongnow.

(Blackout)

Dayron Villaverde

MALECÓN

WATERFALL

78

ChowMybellyroarsinLion’stongue.

Ithowls,notinterritorialdispute,butatsightof itsemptydepths.

Mybudstakingtheclamorascommand,readytosalivateatthoughtsof

consumption.

Visionpicturingthevivid

Sizzlingof cookingsteak.

Benihanathecook.

Thebeastlyroargrowinglouder,onlywaytofendforitsturf.

Earshearthemirageof asweetdingfromatriangularbell.

ThelionpondersonwhyIskimphimout.

Unabletospeak,mytongueslipsonthepoolsof saliva.

Thelionshouts,“Lo que hace falta es jama!”

Theweakeninggrowlmirroringitswill.

Kingof thebowelsnowcriesthencommands.

Thecriesripplethroughmyentirebody

StrikingLitoinhisverybones.

Thatheavenlysteakadvancingcloserandclosertothelion’sden.

Aweaningcubnowwaitsobedientlyinthedepths.

Thesteakflipsandspinsfollowedbyabow.

Thecubthesame,throughaflaminghoopinstead.

Nothingrewardedfortheeffort,

“Por favor lo que falta es jama.”

Knifeandforkbattlecrytothefrontlines,

“Jama!”

Depthsnowfullof prey.

RAUL BENITEZ

79

SADIEL “SPEEDY“ RUIZTHESE ARE NOT THE RIDES YOU’RE LOOKING FOR

1997

Heheldmeinhisarms.Wetumbledinthebed.Ikepttryingtopull

away.Hislegsweresopowerful.Ibegantopanic.Iscreamed.Helet

go.Wewereneverthesame.

81

LapELIZABETH FERNANDEZ

Santa’slap

Warm,inviting,

Animposter.He

Isthejanitor.

Mothermouths

Smile,pretend,

Sitstraight.She

Needsthememory

Thesuit

Noxious,synthetic,

Thatsmell.Eyes

Wellup.

Smile.Click.

Daddyalwayssaid

Neversitonanother

Man’slap.

82

NostoiDEVORA PEREZ

Theskyseemedsomuchclearerand

closerhere,maybeduetotheelevation.Ifeltas

if Iweretoreachoutmyhands,Iwouldbeable

totouchtheclouds.Thecolorssovivid,Iwas

dumbfounded.Thesoilwasrich;itwasvisibly

obviousthatitcouldnurtureanyplant.WasI

notintheghettohere?Amidstallthemudand

tinhouses,therewerecolorsthatIhadnever

seeninAmerica.Thisforeignplacewastheland

of myparents.Tearingeyesfrommysurround-

ings,Ifocusedonthematterathand.

Theoldladywassittingonawooden

rockingchairsixfeetinfrontof me.Itriedto

breatheandhopedthegenerousburstof fresh

windswouldnotstop.Ididnotwanttobehere.

Ifeltlikeacowardforcoming,whenIpromised

myself thatIwouldneverseethiswoman.Ihad

alreadyacceptedthefactthatIwouldletmy

hatredfesterinmyheartlikeanopenwoundfor

therestof mylife.

Itriedtorecallwhenthishatredbegan.

Itwasaboutthreeyearsbefore,onaSunday

nightwhilerunningerrands.Mymothersud-

denlybrokedownlikeachildinthecar.The

muffledsoundsshemadeasshesobbedremind-

edmeof whenIusedtocry.Itriedtoswallow

hardtoavoidlookingatherinthisvulnerable

state.Itriedtomakemyheartturntostone,

mystupidattempttobestrongforher.HowI

sworetohateherforinflictingsuchwoundsin

mymother’sheart.Iwouldneverforgiveher.My

exactwordswere,“Mom,notevenabitchleaves

herpups!Whatrightdidshehavetogiveyou

away?Adamnanimalhasmorecommonsense

thanshedid!”It’sincrediblehowfragileand

fickleaheartis,yetstrongatthesametime.

83

Shelookedatmewithredeyes,butwhat

wasmostshockingwasalookthatspokepity.

UptothisdayIcannotcomprehend

thedimensionsof mymother’sheart.Shenever

spokeillof herbiologicalmother.

Isatdownobservingthiswomanin

herlatesixtiesasshespoketomyfamily.The

sunhadnotbeenkindtoher;she

wasabouttenshadesdarkerthanmy

mother.Iwasdisturbedbythefact

thatshelookedidenticaltomymom,

onlymucholder.Theyhadthesameforehead,

eyes,lipsandlongstraightblackhair.Everything!

Itwasrevolting.Sheworeasleevelessbluefloral

dresswithherblackhairpickedupinawhite

clip.Herrightlegwasmissing;sherecounted

howabusranoverherleg.Shestartedtoreveal

herpast;shebegantocry,thosememoriesstill

freshtoher.Morethanoncehergrandmother

triedtokillherbydrowningher.Shementioned

thatshewasabandonedattheageof twelve

andforcedtowanderthestreets.Shewasachild

tryingtosurvive,andsoshehadmanychildren

thatshegaveaway,includingmymother.She

wasbroken.Asshestoodononelegandheld

mymother,sheaskedforforgiveness.

Theybothcried.

Isatlookingatthiswomanin

disbelief.Ipitiedher.Myeyeswelled

up,andIwasangry.IthurtmethatIhatedher

forsomanyyears,butmyhatredwasmisplaced.

Lifehadnotbeenkindtoher.Whatcouldshe

do?Inoldageshewastryingtomakeamends.

Shereceivedtheforgivenessthatshelongedfor.

Amonthaftercomingbackhome,wereceived

newsthatshehadpassedaway.

fickle

84

Pale Cruel MotherGREISY DELGADO

Mothermoon,frigidandpale

youraisethedaringdead

carcassesof thoselikeSylviaPlath

fromworm-filledcoffins.

Mother,youcold-heartedlover,you

tumultuouslytenderandblack,

lackthetouchof athousandsuns.

Clawsattheendof yourbluegreyhands

thatripthroughtheskinsof men

devouringeachoneof them

fromnecktogroin.

Emasculatingmenisyourpleasure,

ohmother,howyouenjoycausingterror

yousillywitheredcorpseyou.

Withawickedsmileandsilveryeyesthathypnotize

luringareyourways

Youwretchedwidowspideryou,

Leavingbodiestodecay.

Andareyouhappynow,Mother?Onyourself-builtpedestal

inwhichyousitalone,

withthebonesandskinof torturedmen

tiedaroundyourneck.

2008Atraumaticillnesstomybestfriend.Losinghermeantlosingmy

family,myteammate,everything.Shetaughtmehowtoappreciate

thefullnessof life.Shewas15,andIwas14.ShediedJanuaryof

coloncancer.

86

DEVORA PEREZTRANSITION

87

FRANK PELLEGRINO

Lostbutin

formation

Over-burdenedwith

anticipation

Ignorant

of yourcreation

Butfilledwithdetermination

Adetermination

fueledbysociety’sgoals

Weighing

heavily

Regardlessof thetoll

Tobepaid viathecostof time

Timewhich

instead,Ichoosetowritethisrhyme

Inthehopesthatoneday,

youtoowillbefound

Foundby yourself

Beforeyou’reputintheground

Hourglass

88

Hollow Seconds

Outthewindowstandstheoldclocktower,

Theminutestickawayasif seconds,

Thehanddrawsclosetothefatedhour.

Thetypewriteronmyolddeskbeckons,

Icheckitforwordsalreadywritten,

Lookingforashardof inspiration,

ThehardtruthfeelslikeIhavebeenbitten,

Ifeelacoldbeadof perspiration.

Daysgone,andIhavewrittennothingyet,

MystomachturnsasI’mbledoutof time,

ThereissomethingthatIjustdonotget,

ForeachgoodwordIfindthereisnorhyme.

Thedeadlinelooms,anddaynowturnstonight.

ButwillIfindthewordsIneedtowrite?

MAC DINNEEN

89

ALEJANDRO VELIZWORDS ARE WIND

NerysTorralbas/Editor in Chief

ElizabethFernandez/Lead Designer

LeslieAlfonso/Copy Editor

MacDinneen/Copy Editor

AniGonzalez/Artist, Copy Editor

FrankPellegrino/Photographer, Designer

Sadiel“Speedy”Ruiz/Photographer, Designer

FilibertoSilveira/Copy Editor

AlexVeliz/Photographer, Designer

RosendodeVicente/Designer, Copy Editor

Staff

SPECIAL THANKS

FACULTY ADVISERS

GeorgeCalonge

GreisyDelgado

YenisleidyDiaz

EstelaGarcia

DevoraPerez

JuanRodriguez

Jonathan“Kirby”Vanegas

DayronVillaverde

VictorCalderin

IvonneLamazares

NATIONAL AWARDSColumbiaScholasticPressAssociation2012

Gold Medalist Certificate

2nd Place: Overall Design; Elizabeth Fernandez

2nd Place: Literary Portfolio; Elizabeth Fernandez

Certificate of Merit: Typography; Elizabeth Fernandez

REGIONAL AWARDSCommunityCollegeHumanitiesAssociation2012

2nd Place: Southern Division; Victoria Saavedra

STATE AWARDSFloridaCollegeSystemPressAssociation2012

General Excellence: Magazine, Division A

1st place: Best Design; Elizabeth Fernandez

1st Place: Best Editing;Victoria Saavedra, Isuet Ribot

1st Place: Best Poem; Jennifer Cruz

2nd Place: Poetry; Isuet Ribot, Jennifer Cruz, Carl Canizares

2nd Place: Illustration with Text Individual, Sadiel “Speedy” Ruiz

2nd Place: Illustration with Text Magazine; Michael Sanchez, Sadiel “Speedy”

Ruiz, George Calonge

2nd Place: Photo; George Calonge

2nd Place: Staff page; Sadiel “Speedy” Ruiz

3rd Place: Fiction, Victoria Saavedra

Inner Circle of Excellence (for 3 or more awards): Sadiel “Speedy” Ruiz

Awards

Colophon

PRODUCTION NOTESCreatedonAppleiMac8.1OSXwithInDesignCS4andPhotoshopCS4.

ThefontsusedwereGaramond,Corbel,andKontor.

PrintedbyACGraphicsonPEFCcertifitedpaperfromwell-managedforestsand

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EDITORIAL POLICYCaféCulturaisproducedonceayearbystudentsenrolledatMiamiDadeCollege-

HialeahCampus.Studentssubmittheirworktocafecultura@mdc.edu.Magazinestaff

membersremovenamesandidentifiersandthenselectthepiecesforthepublication.

CaféCultura’smissionistoprovideMiamiDadeCollegeHialeahCampusstudents

withanoutletfortheircreativeoutputintheliterary,visual,andmusicalarts.

Opinionsandviewsexpressedbytheartistsorauthorsdonotnecessarilyreflectthose

of thestaff,theadvisers,orMiamiDadeCollege.

Thank You

ADMINISTRATIONDr.AnaMariaBradley-Hess,Deanof AcademicandStudentServices

Dr.CaridadCastro,Chairpersonof LiberalArtsandSciencesDepartment

SPECIAL THANKS TOStudentGovernmentAssociation2011-12

Prof.SherriSinkoff andherSpeechCommunicationstudents

StudentLifeManagerMichelleGreen

StudentServicesDirectorNelsonMagaña

CampusAdministrationDirectorAndreaForero

Directorof LearningResourcesGlendaPhipps

HispanicHeritageCommittee

MediaServices

ACGraphics