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Radames Ortiz
FATHER
On West Main, near a church
My dad decides to be straight with me
"You get real tired of the same meat, of
The same stinking bed."
His eyes a dim gray
His mouth twisting sadness by butter knives
From Mexico City, to Chicago
He tuned-up old trucks, changed tires,
Traced electrical shorts --
The process of making due
"You were a mistake but I stayed."
Flies crawl his arm
The sun flaring behind trees
And I stare deep into stream
Of glass yawning in angled light
He was saying good-bye
"Ya no pedo. Ya no pedo"
Stepping out, dust dancing in gold waves
The engine roars thick as metal
and along the curb, I kick cans
under clouds giving up
and trees pointing to a new home
First published in Turtleneck
Location: Houston, Texas Email: Radames_O@hotmail.com Publications: Exquisite Corpse, Azimuth, Barriolife.com, Fusion Ink, The New Journal, Adirondack Review, The Mesquite Review, etc. Chapbook: Below the Surface Awards: Fabian Worsham Award for Poetry and the Megaera Award for Poetry Other: Editor of The Bayou Review, the literary journal for the University of Houston Downtown, and the online journal Coyote Magazine: Bringing Literature and Art Across Borders