First, I’ll hear motoconchos breaking
the streets, a river panting, morning
voice still sticky & tart in my throat, the curious
tug and pull of dark-darks against wet mountains.
The man in question puts a mango to my mouth
then kisses it with all his lips. Something fleshy
suh-weet like dominican pears only fatter & farther up
from the earth. Que labios tan bellos, son todos
tuyos mamita? There is powdered milk on either
corner of his mouth, pan dulce in one hand, kissing
fruit still. A guinea chick waddles by, plump as a child.
He grabs the bird, fist still damp with sugar, then
pops its neck. Mango flesh settles in my teeth like
heavy sand. I imagine my own sweet death: inner body
devoured, skin cleanly shaved, my pesky pelt thrown
into a bougainvillea bush, a syrupy homage to the root
that made me.
Lizza Rodriguez is a poet and social critic from Miami, FL. A National YoungArts finalist and Poetry Society of America awardee, Lizza remains determined in exploring avenues for social change through her craft. She is inspired most by her working class Dominican upbringing and freedom struggles from Philadelphia to Puerto Rico to Palestine. Some of her work can be found in Moko Magazine, Dog Eat Crow Magazine, and The Blue Pencil.
Art by Dawn Maciocia