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3 Poems by Julián David Bañuelos

My Neighbors

Upstairs are nocturnal beings. They are playing

Musical chairs right now and yesterday

Shuffleboard with their furniture. Praying

Hasn’t helped, knee-less hymns without leeway—

Like my mother I only pray at night

Unlike my mother, I pray to be heard

Knowing no one listens. It’s a human right

To be heard, but if I scream, it’s absurd?

I scream for those without voices, choices,

And those without chance. My neighbor’s upstairs

Have never had to listen to voices

Below.

Knock knock— We have brought our own chairs.

I open both my windows before bed

and listen to the screams my neighbors dread.

Through the Wall

Now that freedom has entered,

I can feed you the sweetest lies

pulling them from their vines.

How juicy and cold it must feel

to believe there’s a home en el otro lado—

Attention ruffles the palate

In ways sustenance cannot.

Attention suffocates tongues.

Attention fills mouths con mentiras

Attention is what you craved.

This country of my body is broken

into provinces, Walled off like my people

waiting for change. Surviving on change.

Written across their foreheads: We are hungry.

Igual, hermosas

Quarantimes

I’ve always enjoyed the bitter side.

I chew my pills with or without regretful gums,

Drinks always bite before I do.

I find relief refusing suffering.

Funerals over house parties.

Rejection over praise,

Over and over and over and over

Into the deep end. I can swim but I won’t.

I stepped outside today (the fescue

Slithered under my feet, it took ten seconds,

Nine cats drove by, eight dogs walked themselves,

Heaven felt seven feet away, six-gun shots,

Five bikes in the neighbor’s yard, four broken

Flowerpots on my stoop, three versions of myself,

Two bare hands, and one door)

To breath a broken world.

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