Low Point

wouldn't be the exact word for this portion of my life, but for the sake of being over dramatic i'll stick to it.

I just found out I was not accepted to the CantoMundo 2011 writing workshops. I'm disappointed for two reasons: first, I had forgotten I applied and secondly, obviously I didn't get in. This produces a bit of poet envy in me because now I want to know who actually got in. And this becomes dangerous because work is compared and trying to validate my rejection and their acceptance.
I actually thought I had a decent chance, but then again I haven't applied myself a lot to attending workshops, mainly because of full time work. But CantoMundo 2011 was going to be in Austin, so close and a favorite city of mine.

I hate rejection at this level. I don't mind being rejected from journals and magazines because those are numerous. But this workshop is once a year. I wish I could write to them and ask, "why exactly was I not chosen?" Primarily so I know where to improve.

Oh, well. I'll try to compensate by doing something else.

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Reynosa I

hace quince años
caminaba con mis padres
en el centro

ellos fueron
a comprar queso
y aguacate

y yo fui
a chispas
para jugar
arcade games

antes cuando
simplemente
era un diversión
y yo no era
americano,
ni pocho
o chicano

cuando yo
era un niño
me gustaba
caminar entre
el centro
inadvertido