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15 December, 2012

Animo, gente, but say a prayer too!

Hey Gente,

I want to play catch-up with you, fill you in all the writing, poetry, project stuff happening lately and from the last year, but my heart is a bit heavy. Just read, or watch your news.

I won't get political, nor too sentimental, but what I will do is keep a chin up in honor of those children and those educators who lost their lives in Newtown, CT and anywhere in the world.

I post this poem in Facebook just a few minutes ago, so I thought I would do the same here:

I Teach

I wrote until
the chalkboard
clear and white,


lockers unfolded
out of cabinets,

no tiza dust,
but erasable markers,
shinny boards that I
close my eyes in front of.

I hold my breathe right
before the first bell rings,
and every morning
I run all sorts of thoughts

and I know.

I teach because the money
is a hot meal, nothing more,
I teach because I can see
in their faces,

I teach because they want to be here,
I teach because they hate being here
and there’s no place else.
I teach because I let them feel
at home
and sometimes the kids,
they ask if they can spend
the night in the classroom.

I smile.

I provide cots for the ones
that can’t sleep at home; with
a pillow and matching sheets.
I’m a taxi service when it gets too late.
I’m a social worker when the school nurse
forgets the hearing aid paperwork . . .
I teach because the world
does not provide for an
A,B,C,D bubble life.
I teach because I hated teachers
and I am sick of hating them.

I teach to be humble.

I teach because I want them
to remember their own fathers
and quit slipping and calling me “Apa”.
Sometimes they hug me afterwards.

I teach for the laughter. I see the tears
and I can recognize
the hearts of children,
at least today.

Today is the only thing I control.


I will:

ice a few busted lips,
glue a shoe sole,
fix a spiral notebook,
contain a seizure,

collect twelve love notes
and correct the spelling,

organize three games of
kickball, soccer and
red light/green light,
make the boys shake
after a fair fight,

dig in the closet for extra
clothes after someone’s accident,
make a rainbow and speak of magical
refractions and sunlight,
and the kids, yeah, they
will only hear me say
rainbow, blah, blah, blah
magical blah, blah, blah, light,

use diplomacy while playing UNO,
introduce deodorant,
provide at least four lunches,
repair two sets of  glasses,
burn all the paperwork,

defend a child from a drunk parent,
stop a bus with a single hand,
control the weather with
my imagination,
bridge a nose bleed,

wish, then, shake the shit
out of that hooker/momma
when I need her Gustavo
in my Math tutorials,

make all the kids live to read,
convince eight pairs of parents
from Lantern Village that “camping”
is good for their hijitos


combat a system that wants
to swallow my kids whole.

I save children everyday,
every time I open my door.

So tell me,

just what the hell do you do?

© 2010 Lupe Mendez 

If you have children, hug them tighter. If you talk to your kid's teacher, thank them. If you are friends with a teacher, tell them they are doing a good job. Its an amazing profession. Then call home and talk to your loved ones. 

06 December, 2012

Back with a Bang and a Holiday Blog Tour !!!

Ok Gente, so I KNOW its been a while - (SORRY, but I got into grad school and this one site had to suffer, gonna fix that), but its a great time to get something going!!!

As of now, consider this site back up and running!!!

WHAT A WAY TO START!!  So if you read last year's blog post :
then you know what time it is!!

This year, the lovely Icess Fernandez has done it again, organizing well over 15 to 20 bloggers to present to you written works dealing with Holidays. I am honored to be the first one up to get the party started. She has done a knock out job,  getting things going and its great to have a second chance to share some time and writing.

So sit back, get a cup of chocolate and enjoy this first read.

Last year I did a story about my family for Christmas, so this year, I wanted to get back to basics and do what I do best, poetry. This piece is still my family, but instead of it in Galveston, Its in Jalisco.

The piece should speak for itself.

Christmas Night, by Candle Light
It is a Basilica night my dear,
so bring your velitas.
Bring your capirotara.
Bring your old iniquities
and your transgressions.
It is a night by the Catedral,
cercas del Teatro Degollado
and the lights are glowing
and the embers are ripe.
I owe you a night.
I tell you about how people
in these pueblitos believe far
beyond what they can not read.
They spit on stones and
wield corn stocks like flag staffs,
pray from some auditory function
of memory with more feeling and
more faith than I could ever embody.
Somos peregrinos today.
And we walk under the stars,
stars so bright in the mountains
and the serros you can imagine
los reyes magos trying to catch up
to you in the moon light.
Wait for them, amor.
Did you bring your gift?
Did you remember what it is
you wanted to pray for?
Did you remember to shake off
that instant wish for your heart.
I know you forgot.
I forget to as well.
But my tatarabuelo didn’t.
He shuffles around and says
that in the morning,
the sun will be so sabroso
when it hits our faces.
Toma el retrato – take the picture
of your primita as you walk
in the moonlight.
She will need your prayers.
Write one on the back of
the photo and pin it to
the wall when you finish
your pilgrimage.
Diosito will wait for you.
He will take away the poison
in her piernita, in her little leg
and she will sing again. And this will be
how you enter the Basilica.
On your knees.
The cobblestone will greet
your piety and the people
assembled will be your warmth.
Until you hear
the chords of the chorus,
you hear the echo of babies
and hearts in the fire,
in the lights on the wreath,
look up then, mijito and see
who is around you.
They have heavy hearts
like you,
ready to release from such a trek.
Don’t fret, amor,
we can walk together
we can see more than a thousand,
thousand lights at the
tips of our corneas,
blur and split,
bend and entrance,
weave and flutter,
like a bewildered heart,
like a overfilled cup,
like a boiling of vaporous flicker,
orange and bronze –
it is a wick or two,
a wax or twenty
lining up outside
the Cathedral halls
in Guadalajara,
assembling inside
the Basilica of San Juan
de Los lagos
and I am a single voice,
a pledging prayer,
a stubborn hope that wants
to see a little face walk around
and meet you, here in a year
and watch you comb her little
hair and sing carols, watching
Los peces en el rio, twinkle on a
Christmas night, by candle light.

By Lupe Mendez

Hope you guys enjoyed the piece! Please share it out and look for the next blogger on Dec. 8th, Gwendolyn Jerris, and her blog site, silence & honeysuckle. I can't wait to see what everyone is planning on posting.

I hope you and your's have an amazing Holiday season and warmest wishes to all of you!!

26 January, 2012

GET on the BUS!!!!

Hello Gente,

So now this is a weekly thing. I admit its fun (granted its only the second time, whatev...). Now lets get on with my two new tid-bits of news. So if you read last weeks post, you probably have seen this video:

If you have seen it, then good, you are in the know and should have already spread this around to friends, donated some money or books or plan to donate some money or books. So far, the planning is on fire and the support is amazing. The coverage is stagering  and the list of authors keeps growing!!  If you want to keep up to date on what is going on, check out the LIBROTRFICANTE website. All the most major details are there. As it stands we are still in need of financial support to make sure we can get warm bodies and the books all the way to Tucson, AZ.  I can not stress enough the need to support this effort - the fact that TUSD has removed texts that analyze and depict the history and stuggle of Mexicans and Mexican-Americans is brutal and unjust. If we can't deny the law, we can sure as hell defy it.  Please read the press release. SUPPORT. DONATE. SPEAD THE WORD. As it stands, we aren't the only one's making a stand. CHECH THIS OUT.
Now to other book/poetry related issues!!!!

Join Outspoken Bean for Subject & Sustenance: A Poetry Conservatory

Houston Poets Outspoken Bean and Nyne(two of my favorite poets!!!) curate an evening of authentic, beautiful poetry. Beginning with a Writer’s Workshop, participating writers feature their creations during Open Mic.

Time: Workshop @ 6p, Open Mic @ 7:30p
Date: Every Saturday Night
Place: The Eat Gallery (4420 Almeda)
Cost: $5 at the Door (Credit/Debit Cards Are Ok!)


Formerly Gs and Zs, The Eat Gallery continues the legacy of Gs and Zs, valuing our community’s entrepreneurs and supporting their decision to live their dreams.

Show your support!!!

for a Grad school update (as if you really wanted to know)...

Bueno, esto al punto de terminar mi solicitud para La Unviersidad de Tejas en El Paso ( I am just about finished with my application to UTEP) y no creo que puderia hacerlo sin el apoyo de Icess Fernandez, Tammy Gomez y Radames Ortiz - these guys rock!!  They were able to help out by creating recommendation letters for this little ole' poet... I am forever in there debt!! Mil Gracias!!!!  So with that almost done, I am now working on applying for the next three schools: Warren Wilson, Queens Univ. of Charlotte and Pacific Univ. Each of these schools has a Low -Residency MFA in poetry that meets my needs and would an amazing experience!! 

WARREN WILSON is the #1 School in the U.S. and from what I have read up on, its a program that would challange me in thought and practice. It holds two 10 day workshops twice a year until the MFA is completed and in-depth as well.

Press Release
Press Release
PACIFIC UNIVERISTY is located in Oregan and from what I have been able to read up on, it is a serious program. Their program focuses on developing the writer and it appriciates the diversity the writer brings to the program.

The Last school (of the three) is QUEENS UNIVERSITY OF CHARLOTTE - This program is intense in that it requires the student to take a double amount of seminar classes as well as the standard coursework. Of the three programs, the facutly of this school seems to be the most culturally diverse.  That's a plus. So, up until March 1st, that's what I will be working on. SO wish me luck. After these schools, all I have left is Goddard College and then Naropa University!!! 

18 January, 2012

New YEAR, New start (sort of . . .)

Hey Gente,   So there is lots to talk about and as I type this, I realize I should be using this thing alot more often. SO with that said, this space will be a WEEKLY (or as close to weekly as I can get) POSTING for more than just happenings of a poetic life, but rather a place I can also set up some ideas and talk about literary movements (and stagnation).

WITH THAT SAID, lets move on to some news.
1) ITS OFFICIAL!!!! I AM APPLYING FOR GRAD SCHOOL - and you get to see where I am trying to get in. The first two schools on my list (not necessarily in order of importance, but probably by due dates) are Bard College and The University of Texas @ El Paso .  In truth, I never, ever thought about advancing past my bachelors degree from The University of St. Thomas, and maybe that was foolish. I probably should have done this sooner, but then again, maybe I needed the time to build up my writing, my experience and the connections. By the time you read this, I have already turned in my application to Bard College and am currently working on the one for UTEP. Wish me luck!!!

Don't worry, I am not quitting my day job. I don't think I would be a productive writer if I had all that time on my hands. In addition, I have a whole life that I just can't and wouldn't uproot. So, it looks like low-residency programs are what I will be looking at!!

Bard College attracts me because of the fact that the program is set up to build up artists, by having each candidate mix it up with artists in other fields. That is an amazing feat I would love to undertake- being able to work with other artists and learn a little about what an artistic process is for them.  The program takes place 2 months in NY state (Annandale on Hudson) and then I come back to H-town and keep working from here on what I started there.

UTEP looks to be the program that might also fit because it is takes place all on-line!!  Its a pace I think I can work with (just me and a professor I can bug with questions). The challenge here is figuring the pace and energy to work with, since I will only have my work and my thoughts to inspire what I create.

Let's see what happens . . .



You want to be one to?  First watch this Video and then I can explain:
(click on the link) Libro -Traficantes 

Did you like the Video? Good -So if you want to know what's up? here is the deal in a nut shell - Arizona State Senate Bill - HB2281 basically bands ethnic studies in the state. Its already in place and there are people working to fight it already. But for now, is a blow to Latinos and basically any minority.   And it can only get worse. IT has gotten worse: as of yesterday, the Tucson Unified School District did away with Mexican-American Studies as a program in the district and by doing so has also declared that the texts used in the courses are now BANNED BOOKS. Yes. You read that right. If you want to know what books are out, let me give you a short run down - basically anything by Jimmy Santiago Baca, Sandra Cisneros, Dagoberto Gilb, Paulo Freire, and Shakespeare. Yep. HERE IS THE FULL LIST 

As of now, I think I am going to work on buying me some books and lend them out to some "friends" in another state. Care to join me?  At the very least I am going to work on an extensive list of the next set of books they can ban. Hell, TUSD administrators informed Mexican-American studies teachers to stay away from any units where “race, ethnicity and oppression are central themes" - and I know they didn't get every book, what about the Diary of Ann Frank? What about The Help? What about Dr. Seuss' the LORAX?  So, let me get to work on that... BE READY, we might be taking a trip... 

07 December, 2011


Feliz Fiestas, gente!!!  Merry Christmas!!!!  Alot has happened (as usual) and in the next blog I will catch you up, for now though, I am going to set aside with the info dropping on this blog and take the time to take part in a writing project/virtual tour set for the Holidays!!!

So the way this goes:

23 writers were organized by la mera, mera, Icess Fernandez to write poetry, prose, or fiction based on the Holidays - throughout the month of December, you will be treated to over 20 different writers lending their talents to this writing project tour.  I am the 6th stop of the Holiday Blog Tour - if you want to catch up on the previous day's blog, check out that here . If you want to get more info, then check out Icess' blog and keep a look out for the Holiday Blog Tour 2011.

So here is my contribution:

Worst. Christmas. Ever. (A Memoir Piece for the Ages)

Picture a young me at seventeen years of age. Clinton was President of the U.S., Boyz to Men were still big, gas was cheap and I had just received the keys for the hand-me-down F150 (navy blue) in November. THERE WAS NO INTERNET, beppers were for doctors, and cell phones were for drug dealers and heavy. I was single, somewhat broke (I had only been working for Moody Garden's catering department for only like 6 months).  School was good and were just about to plan and vote for the next year's Spring Musical at my high school. I was knee deep in school, girls, a few books, and Quinceneras.

One of the many family traditions in the Mendez household including a few low-key events: my parents were far from having parties at the house (in fact, if you have ever been to Mardi Gras at my house, that Spring in '94 would only have been the second time I would have friends at the house. Well anyways, for Christmas, we would always, I mean always,  head to our church -  Reina de La Paz (sadly, Hurricane Ike took out the building and they are now located on Bolivar Penninsula) for Mid-night mass.

Now for those of you who are not Mejicano, Mexican- American, Latino, Brown, etc - let me explain for a moment what Catholicism is like for the different family members :

Mothers - you go, unless you are in a coma, have rabies, are possessed or invalid, and you rule with an iron fist any member of your family when it comes to religious aspects of the family. You make sure every sinverguenza goes to church. You watch all your family like a hawk. You and only you are allowed to help las cocineras de la iglesia to prepare dinner after mid-night mass. You make sure everyone eats a little something, you talk to your comadres after service and you absolutely make sure that you AND ONLY YOU are the one who can turn around in the middle of mass and stare, with disgust at the people who arrive late to mass and follow them with your eyes until the sit down. Pendejos. Pues, para que vienen tarde?

Sons or Daughters - you shut up, you get dressed, you call your friends that you hang out with and that go to your church and you tell them to go to church. YOu tell them you are going to be bored and don't want to be alone for the service. YOU will get roughly twenty minutes max, to hang in the salon after mid-night misa is over. When in church, shut the F**K UP, say all the prayers, don't check out the guys/girls that came to misa as well (well you can, but do it on the sly) and give the limosna. You will get to eat food, but make sure to sit with your friends. But only for a little while- someone is always judging you; la vecina, el cura, tu madre, el puto de las clases de CCE.

Father - You have two options A) Drag. Ass. Get. Drunk. Act disinterested. Fight with the wife with shitty questions like, "Why don't we just go to eight o'clock mass?" - knowing full well, you won't go.  Take for ever getting dressed, after all, since you were draggin' ass, you are the last one to take a shower and get ready. Make sure you take a beer and drink it all seconds before you enter the church. Ponte sombrero y no te lo quites cuando entres a la iglesia - chinge su madre. 
B) See beginning three sentences under what MOTHER does. Then add - lead family prayer when you enter the car, be neurotic and get to church a whole hour and half later and make all your family members prep the church for mid-night mass. Be stern and when the church is filled up and you have front row seating in mass, smile. Smile as if its going out of style and think to yourself -chinge su madre.

Additional Family Members - Do what you are told, go with the flow, after all you don't have to live with these people for the rest of your life.  Honest.

So now that you know what's what, let me get on with the story(its somewhat short):

Picture a small wood paneled church, full to the brim with every type of latino from Mexico to Costa Rica. Picture a nativity scene that takes up half the altar and blinking Christmas lights around La Virgen de Guadalupe. Yes, I know. shhh. It gets better.

So, that particular Christmas was very memorable for all the wrong reasons. Its one of those times that now you can laugh at, but no one would believe it actually happened.  Well, anyways, Christmas Eve was upon and my mother had made plans to attend Mid-night mass and had intended for all the family to go along with the program. No problem - except for some variables that would prove to be too much for one seventeen year old later that night: add one cucharada de postpartum depression and another of Mejicano filled with budlight and you have the makings for a great night.

A few days before Christmas Eve, my cousin had just given birth to a beautiful little girl and begun her her life as a mother. But before that feeling could last, her husband and her had decided to let him take the newborn to Mexico for Christmas. The idea being, he could introduce her to her family in Mexico and since my cousin had no papers at the time, she would have to sacrifice and stay here. With us. With postpartum depression.

So now add this heartbreaking situation on top of the fact that I was already not in the mood to attend mass and add my father who con puro gusto began to drink it up until he was a hot mess, and you have an angry mother of the house.

We make our way to Reina de la Paz. We get there so early, we are able to get in on the left side of the church, in the third pew no less. Left side  was great. As a young man, you could check out any girl in the crowd, see who was falling asleep and lead an escape or "early release"before mass ended. But no, that all goes to hell when you sit in the front, You can feel people's eyes digging into the back of your head. Judging. Whispering, and if you have any friends or potential dating opportunities, they get to see you and yours like a scientist views slides in a microscope.

We arrived at church, took a seat and soon the place was packed and service had begun. Now the fun begins. Our section of the pew contains a drunk man, a really depressed new mom who keeps crying, a pissed off mother and me, totally at a loss for words. Service begins and there is now a new variable that, at least for me, makes the evening enjoyable: the priest has a hot body mic. It picks up the bass in his voice and the noise his throat makes every time he swallows. I don't know how many times it happened. I had to spend the majority of mass trying not to bust out laughing as those noises and sounds kept waking up viejitos and babies the rest of the evening. Yeah, that body mic was hot and loud.

So there we are. thirty minutes into the service, my father keeps dozing off, my mother has her arms crossed and my cousin is sobbing every few minutes.  The priest gets us though a long, body mic hot homily about how family unity is important - cue my cousin and her now loud ass sobs. So now it feels like everyone my age is watching a bad train wreck.

Once Homily is over, we prep for communion and thats when the real fun begins. As the cura takes the body and blood of Christ down so he can feed the masses, I realize I have one chance to get a peek as to who is behind me. All I have to do is go get communion and wine, then walk slowly back to get to my seat. That would be the best.

Well it happens, I am even able to smile at a young lady who I have been wanting to ask out for a few weeks. I return a bit relieved to my seat. The bonus to this was that the young lady who I had been eyeing, had managed to take her and girlfriends and go take communion, but from my side of the aisle. She was even able to slip me a note and tap me on my shoulder. I was able to whisper hello to her and to some of the girls that followed. They all knew what was to transpire. Once more, they even went along to support and draw away suspicion from all the comadres in crowd. I was upbeat, slightly feeling a bit successful with this young lady. But that ended too soon.

You see, I mention the body mic and my dad's debauchery for a reason. It was what made the night unbearably painful and now funny.

As these young ladies are passing by (on the way back from getting Communion and wine), I was able to make eye contact with most of them and as I was setting my sights and enjoying the view, it happened. My father, who had gone the entire mass without even reciting one prayer or response, managed to say the one phrase that made it all a hot mess:  He sits up, looks at some of the young ladies taking communion, some of then drinking wine from the goblet, and some of them on their return. He studies them, and he looks at me. He tries to focus on them and then on me and then out of blue comes a whisper so loud, the priest's mic catches it an projects it throughout the church - He looks at them, then at me and he leans over to me and "whispers" mira mijo, mira esas putillas comulgando. 

The one good thing that came from this was my cousin stopped sobbing and crying and just stared at my dad. My mother stared at my dad and then my cousin began to cry harder. Me, well, I looked up to see the girls as they were walking past and all the faces of contentment turned to bitter angst. I could hear some gasps, I could hear some snickering (probably friends) from the back. It was rotten. It was funny. It made my mom angry, but at least, we got to get our of church early. Embarrassment, that night served its purpose - to get us out of there.  I lost the girl, but at least we were together.

That night when I got home, my mother yelled and screamed at my dad, my dad tried to defend his actions by saying "yo nomas dije la verdad" and my poor cousin, finally went to bed. My parents fought on their way to bed and by 1:45 I could still hear them until finally by 2:00am in the morning, it was silent.   In all the chaos, no one had opened any gifts. So, feeling as if i deserved a reward for such a crazy night, I reached under the Christmas tree(totally decorated in simple lights) and pulled out a small envelope. I opened it. It was a blue/snowy background of a card with a snow covered Christmas tree totally decorated in silver trimmings. There was no writing on the cover of the card. I opened the card and it was blank, except for six words:

Para un gran hijo, Feliz Navidad.

I smiled, for in the card, aside from the writing, I found a smaller envelope with sixty-five dollars - one half of the money I needed to pay for my graduation ring. To this day, I don't know how they knew I only needed the sixty-five dollars.  I had never told them about the ring, nor the design, nor that I had already made the first payment in October and that the second and final payment was due in January. I never brought the Josten order brochure home, never even mentioned a wanted a damn graduation ring. But they knew.  It was then that I learned not to care about what other people were doing outside my house. Mi gente, my family, my mom and dad, as nuts as they seemed were spot on the best they could be. I could ask for nothing better, and, I never have.

They still fight when they go to mid-night mass, and my dad still has a shot of tequila before the leave, and they are late when they get there, but they get there. Who could ask for anything more? Best. Christmas. Ever.

Hope you liked it!!!  - Now, please, please, please, check out the next stop on the Holiday Blog tour with the lovely Natasha Oliver . Her Holiday blog should be up tomorrow. Enjoy!!!

18 October, 2011

In The Works

Hey Gente,

Hope all is well on your side of the screen. As for me, things keep looking up!!  To start off, I decided to experiment a little bit and hit up an area I knew little about: E-PUBLISHING!!!  As of now (more like 2 weeks ago), I have a collection of poems ON-LINE and for SALE!!! (That was the link, go ahead, click on it.) Calmate, calmate, its nothing totally outragious nor graciosos - rather, something quite basic actually.  After speaking to a dear friend (Mr. Tony Diaz, thanks!!!), who put the bug in my ear, I decided that instead of creating a standard chapbook for print and sale (mas barato que antes!!) at $5.00, Tony came up with idea like this - "lets experiment: do your book, but lets get it on BARNES & NOBLE and see if we can sell it ON-LINE " . The Basic point is to see what people do when they find out poetry or literature is available for real cheap (this e-chapbook is $3).  So, if you want some poetry for real cheap, then please, please, please, purchase away. I will be keeping tabs on sales and will compare to when I have sold the chapbook before.

Here are the details:

This collection of poetry and prose are the latest works from Lupe Mendez. This set is focused on more raw energy and roots, chaos and memories. The pieces included have been written as early as July of 2001 and as recent as September of 2011.

This collection is unique for this poet: it will mark the first time that I take my work straight to the world wide web (do people still say that?). Each section is set up as acts in play, themed by emotion, each poem is a scene and story.

Enjoy the work . . .  And check out Tony's latest project, AZTEC MUSE,  very classy!!!



So last night, I finally got a chance to check up on some e-mails and low and behold, I got an e-mail from fellow poet - Christopher Carmona (if you haven't read or heard his work, try it, you'll be better for it), out of Texas A&M. Currently, Mr. Carmona is working on hosting the 1st Annual BEAT POETRY & ARTS FESTIVAL and on top of that, he is ambitiously editing an anthology of Beat Texas writings for UT Press with Chuck Taylor and Rob Johnson, entitled - The Beatest State in the Union: A Texas Beat Poetry Anthology. I mention this, because in the e-mail I got last night, they have graciously added one of my pieces to the anthology!!!

So far, so good.   Oh yeah, if you want to be a part of the beat-fest, then register for it, here!! Pero, 'amonos, porque el ultimo dia de regristracion es el jueves, el 20 de octubre.  Hurry up!!  Deadline is this thursday!!!

Hope your day is as good as mine.

13 September, 2011

Hey gente,

I think after a great summer, a new beginning (lost the teaching gig, but now counseling high schoolers), and now a new direction - its time to reset the clock, and fit in some time to write.  This blog post will be short, as I am working on calendar scheduling and working on a new chapbook. Aside from that, I am working with some friends to create a new format for poetry in this city.

A major shout out to poets from whom I draw my energy from, Marlon Lizama, Joe B, Maria Palacios, Dee!Colonize, Marie Brown, Fluent One, Outspoken Bean, Chris Wise and many, many more. It will be good to see your faces in the coming days.

A Big thank you to Gustavo Jacobo and the editors of the Bayou Review - for allowing me the take part in their 25th anniversary Spring issue!!  It was two poems and an interview- an amazing experience!!  Keep up the excellent work.

A huge gracias to University of Chester for a great review of Norton's Anthology of Latino Sudden Fiction - they actually reprinted my story from the anthology in their April issue of flash fiction.

And lastly, ponte listo, the newly minted PoetryCo. is making plans and warming up...

Take to the streets and create, mi gente, as Tony Diaz always says "Only Art Can Save Us Now"...