threatening or foreshadowing evil or tragic developments
At home in Los Angeles, when my big sister
is struck by polio, I am not yet old enough
to understand ominous words like iron lung,
quarantine, or eternal light
Later, we move to a corner
of northeast Los Angeles
known as Skunk Hollow,
because the rugged streets
are not yet paved,
so that small wild animals
roam dusty backyards.
When Dad gives me my own art supplies,
I clip a big sheet of paper onto a board,
and drape a smock over my clothes,
to keep all the colors of the world
from ruining the dress Mami made.
The next time I draw a picture,
it’s the same gold-winged
rumba dancer, but this time
she’s on horseback, smiling,
and somehow I know
that I am both
the flying rider
and the swift
steed.
an underground tunnel with recesses where bodies were buried
Underground, in the eerie catacombs
of Guanajuato, I flee from las momias,
the mummies that aren’t really mummies
at all, just grinning skeletons,
posed in agonized positions
that come back
in nightmares
to haunt me.
Underground, in the eerie catacombs
of Guanajuato, I flee from las momias,
the mummies that aren’t really mummies
at all, just grinning skeletons,
posed in agonized positions
that come back
in nightmares
to haunt me.
a tall tower that forms the superstructure of a building
Soon, in a village on the rugged slopes
of Volcán Paricutín, we rent horses,
so we can ride up the volcano to see
a church steeple
that survived the flow
of fiery lava.
devoid of any qualifications or disguise or adornment
The volcano is hard and dark,
a stark landscape that makes my horse
shudder, but the sunlit church steeple
looks like something dreamed
by Don Quixote.
Inside each box, there are surprises
the size of baseball cards—bizarre,
creepy, collectible scraps of stiff paper
that show photos of tortured men,
blood-streaked, bullet- riddled, bearded
Cuban revolutionaries, just like Mami’s
cousins.