Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

On I Becoming Eloquent I had to              come into  a lighter shade of café au lait             from my father’s side             be designated the boy             Mom had to             take on all other roles             ensure my teeth fell before they grew crooked             confirm I passed my courses at the university    so I wouldn’t have to become a farmer I had to             reject Mom’s dream             of me becoming a lawyer             and major in English             with a minor in Acting Dad has to             not faint   when he sees me   at Trump’s Inauguration                      wearing my bright black stilettoes 

When Darkness Falls He got there with a nugget for a tear and a face full of pity,  the transvestite asking me for heat                           and then he wanted to bang me in the fanny. The girls dance alone, like their mothers. The boys look at them sitting in their lofts. They imagine the girls kissing and when they get excited they begin to kiss each other, rub their beard and lingual barbells to the rhythm of techno pop. Some are journalist. Some are strictly DIFFERENT but EQUAL. At five in the morning they kiss and touch then high speed out of there and … craaaassssh. Night ends in tragedy. And what do they do? They return whenever needed. They wait and hope morning doesn't arrive. They return to the corner where the travesties do their rounds for money and pleasure. They throw in the towel for the speed of a gesture. For the volatile in their emotions. A few brushes against each other are enough to tighten their wa