Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

Phone Calls, Pleas for Oneness, and Cucarachitas -What shall I buy? ¿Qué me compraré?  -Lo que quiera usted, whatever you want, dócil Martinita. -Didn’t you just say that a lot louder than the rest. -Kikiriki, was the rooster’s response to all this mess. -Uuu, croac’d the frog next. -I see you’re getting all pretti’d up and beautiful  Martina. Wan’na … go out on a date? -On a date, at night? Sorry, there’s a little matter  of trust we must address before I go out with YOU at night. -I thought you’d ask me about my croac, croac, croac? -No, Señor frog, I may not be pretty  but I haven't survived this long for nothing. (That was when el ratoncito Peréz joined the conversation.)  -Mister ratón, what do you do at night, asked la cucarachita. -Give me a call Martina, but make sure it’s not after ten, not before seven, and never at eight.  I watch my novela at eight. -Ah, sighed la cucarachita: A ratoncito always calls cucarachitas first. You’ve got to do more than

Racism and the submitting Hispanic Poet Three years ago, when I first started submitting my poems to literary journals I came across my first challenges in the writing world.  I did not have the experience to immediately identify the reasons for some of the things that were happening, but one of these challenges was definitely making me uncomfortable and I was going to burst if I kept quiet about it.  So I wrote to these journals that had submission managers and told them that I could not submit because the managers did not have any of the US territories listed separately from the States. Every time I wanted to submit something through a submission manager, the process came to a halt as soon as the manager asked me for a "State," much like the day I went to apply for a job as an assisted-life social worker for adult Down Syndrome clients at a Philadelphia facility.  That experience came back to me like a ferocious lion.  I spent over half an hour trying to convince a secr