Six Days

I didn't realize it. I guess that's when I got back to the valley. Let's see. So what has happened since then. Children birthday parties always make me happy, and tired. I saw some trendy young couples who give off the image of "cool" parents. They probably take their kids to social events, have meet and greet daycare events. I want to look like a cool parent, but I can't. I think if I have kids I will revert (or turn) to a disheveled me. Maybe when we go to the museum I will look neat, and trips to the zoo. But i will dress appropriately. For an outdoor birthday party I will wear shorts and a t-shirt. Function over Appearance.
If.

I finished reading Hunger of Memory. Okay, so the last chapter was the best. Otherwise, the author was basing his ideas/perceptions/beliefs on his own experience. It's not uncommon. Thirty years ago the book was controversial; today it is dated. This author, not for this book, has been nominated for a Pulitzer. crazy.

ay, why do i dislike many of the books i have read recently?

Answer

to the most frequently asked question after a vacation, "Was it fun?"
"I don't know"

Good Memories:

-----Watching the Rockets beat the Hornets

-----Staying up late to read and write

-----Finding art at the French Market

-----the inspiration

Somewhat overshadowing those moments

-----eventually taking a streetcar to get around, so I won't be asked for money

-----realizing the city has not finished decaying

-----hating tourism even more

-----leaving without a strong sense of 'nolins identity

The answer isn't simple this time, but I think a better question is "Was the trip worthwhile"
I can say yes to that.

I was able to write about 10 rough draft poems. These are two.

Border one is a concrete wall
Border two is the Falfurrias checkpoint
Border three are the people

If you have reached this far
do you know who you are (yourself)?

-------------------------------------------

My first border is a wall
plastando la tierra, separating
you from me, me from them

The second is a border
patrol station in Falfurrias
where every trip we answer
questions as if we are
coming from extra
terrestrial land
Are you a U.S citizen?
Where are you going?
Is this your car?
yes sir,
Alton (Mission) [Rio Grande Valley],
yes sir
I do not want to be deported
like you did that stranger
years ago
yesterday
don’t pull me over
like you do
my brother

My third border
in the restaurant
is you looking
past me

Almost to Bed

It's a bit after midnight- 12:20. I had some weird experience. Went to a store to buy some food and beer, about 9pm or so. Once I got my sandwich and Modelo's, I was walking back to the hostel and some guy comes up to me saying "I'm not gonna ask you for money, but can you help me buy something to eat". I didn't really mind, I mean at least he wasn't asking for feria. So we walked to a nearby BK and it was closed. I said "sorry, I tried" but he insisted and we went to a Mc'd's. I bought him something cheap, and he thanked me. Walking some other guy (I assume also homeless) walks towards me and also asks for help. Man, I was starving and I just wanted to get back to eat and drink. I had walked about 4-5 miles earlier that day. I said something like "I'm sorry, but I can't" and walked across the street. And this guy, out of nowhere, starts cussing at me. I have to admit, it's a scared-nervous feeling I had, but I ignored him even after he was across the street cursing for a bit. I can't make everyone happy.


I'm reading Hunger of Memory: The Education of Richard Rodriguez. How do I express my disappointment in his experience. Not necessarily his views because I can't expect them to be the same, but the way he recollects his memories. It seems dry, analytical. But i'm just starting out, and still have much to go.

quick poem:
If you speak to me in Spanish, why
do I care for you more. Why do
your words mean more. Because of the possibilities,
because of shared experiences affirming
there is something bonding us. Am I
foolish to love your spanish, to read
those text yet translated. do I
lover your language whether it is scholarly,
or colloquial. Does it matter if you
are from Nicaragua, always speaking with
an accent. Does it matter that traditions
don't have to die.

Morning

means waking up at 8 or so and staying in bed till 9. By 11 I should have figured out what I am doing tonight. Will definitely try some jazz today. Wanted to go to a museum, but I think I have already gone to enough museums previously in San Antonio. Posting up a few pictures so far from my trip. Trying to figure out what to do next

Safe and Sound

In New Orleans. It's like being home, sitting outside, pearl jam playing, a tv on a comedy show, the rain, sitting under some covered benches. Allright, so it's nothing like home, but it gives off the same comfort. After about a 2 hour delay due to lots of rain and automobile accidents, I made it here in seven hours from Houston. Way too long, but at least I am here. And don't think I am going to spend all my time on the computer, although a six-pack is waiting for me somewhere. Today I have to do some work. I'll post up some pictures soon, but yesterday was already productive. Luckily my brother was at home so I was able to spend some time with him and family, then at night I worked on some revision and new poems. I have some new poems in mind today. Dealing with my initial experience looking for something to eat. I passed a place called "Lookers" which was completely empty. I ended up a 1/2 mile later at some restaurant, and when I walked in the waiters and some of the patrons were watching what I believe to be the Louisiana Derby. As soon as I noticed that I took a look at the clientele and left. lol So here I go back thinking where the hell I was going to eat. I was starving. Pues, no choice but to go to "Lookers Bar & Grill" And you know what, it was totally Mexicano/Latino. On the television "Lente Loco" was playing, there was some spanish music in the background, the waitresses were mexicanas or from honduras...que importa. Even the food was Latin. It was too good to be true. I ordered some chuletas and two Budweises...perfect. I'll make sure to go back there again.
There has to be a poem there somewhere.

Friday th 13th

The weather is gloomy, the type making me want to stay indoors. But today I'm headed to Houston, and on Saturday to New Orleans. The weather in that area also looks gloomy. I won't mind. I found a blog with pictures from New Orleans: jenniferlieb.blogspot.com. I plan on taking some reading material and writing, but things I'm willing to shrug off in case I lose.
Hopefully I will have pictures and blog each day. Hopefully I have a poem each day. If not, I should consider this trip a loss. ta

Bad Writing, Good Intent

I'm sorry, I had to get this out of me. I will keep working at it.



being a non-believer and Chicano

means attending service in case of
emergency weddings, quinceñeras
and baptisms.
It means watching everyone cross
themselves in the name of

..........the father
holy......and.......spirit
..............son

and holding back
my hands
nature
my sister’s wishes,
mom’s.

It means curanderos,
their power derived from dios,
do not exist.

It means promesas,
in the name of god,
are meaningless.

for a non-believer
la Virgin de Guadalupe
will never appear

palm sunday
ash wednesday
good friday

to be godless
almost means
not being Chicano